


All Things Come To Those Who Wait

by SpookshowBabyx



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-01 11:38:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 64
Words: 150,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5204432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookshowBabyx/pseuds/SpookshowBabyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to 'Keep Your Enemies Closer'. </p><p>Once more setting out to find the Saviour, Regina needs to persuade Emma to help her for each of their sake. She soon finds this to be no easy task as she has many unfathomable things to explain about the town Emma had once called home. Not to mention answering several tricky questions about the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Sequel to 'Keep Your Enemies Closer'. Hope you enjoy this new ride, and please, please, please review! :)

_PROLOGUE._

Pushing open the door to her apartment with a defeated sigh, the blonde kicks off her heels to land in a careless heap in the hallway. Her feet groan gratefully as she pads over to the kitchenette and chucks the small box in her hand onto the centre island. She inwardly berates herself for putting up with such a stupid tradition as she glares down at colourful cardboard, but supposes it does no good changing her mind _now_.

And besides.

With the night she's had, she damn well _deserves_ to treat herself.

Rubbing absentmindedly at the drying wine stain painting what _had_ been a perfectly good dress, she stretches up onto her toes to root around in the cupboard above the toaster; wondering for a moment if perhaps she won't have what she needs to complete her sorry little ritual after all, before finding a small box of candles beside a forgotten pack of emergency cigarettes from her brief courtship with Lucky Strikes.

Shaking her head in self depreciation, she opens up the cardboard box and deposits the single cupcake inside onto a simple, china plate. Pushing a candle into the slightly stale yellow frosting, she licks the flaked sugar from her fingers as she goes on a hunt for matches. The icing is a little hard due to the cake most likely having been left sitting out all day, but, she supposes beggars can't be choosers, and she's lucky she's not sticking a candle into an old _bagel_ or something given she'd swung by the store long past eleven pm.

As always, Mark the check out guy had commented on her outfit. And, as always, she'd fixed him with a cool stare until the asshole had remembered he was being paid to do his fucking _job_ and not gaze down the front of her dress. In some ways, the sleazy little shit reminds her of a long ago acquaintance from when she'd previously lived in Boston. Over on the other side. The side she refuses to accept work in nowadays... Because of the heat. The smell. The sounds...

He reminds her of Denny. He-

... But, thinking about that time long gone brings her back to what had happened _afterwards_. The shadowed time. Her lost time. And she pushes those thoughts away warily.

Finding an old book of matches beside the fruit bowl, she strikes one up with a roll of her eyes at her own pathetic tradition, before holding it to the wick of the candle and waiting for it to catch. Leaning over, with her elbows resting on the counter and a deep and familiar feeling of apathy sitting heavily- but not entirely uncomfortably- in her gut, she murmurs another part of her ritual with a weighty sigh of sarcasm.

"Another banner year."

Before blowing out the candle.

Jerking as the extinguishing of the flame is met by a low knock on the door, she pushes herself up with a frown. Padding slowly down the hall- not one to receive many visitors, especially at this time of night- she opens up the door cautiously after tugging self-consciously at the hem of her dress.

"Can I help you?"

She asks curiously, regarding her visitor with a raised brow.

"... Are you Emma Swan?"

* * *

"Who wants to know?"

She asks with a frown, glancing over her shoulder at the sleek, black Roche-Bobois clock above the sink and making it to be a little past midnight.

"...You _are._ Oh my god, you _are_..."

Her guest concludes in a hushed tone, and the blonde nods slowly with an exaggerated look of dubiety before opening her mouth in surprise when the well-dressed brunette at her door sweeps neatly past her and into the living room.

" _Hey!_ "

She cries, following suit swiftly while running a hand uselessly over the tight fabric of her dress in search of her Ruger, but finding nothing but the hidden line of her underwear.

"Who the hell _are_ you?"

She demands, trying her best to sound threatening as her intruder stands with their back to her surveying the room.

Finally, in a low voice, she gets an answer; the stranger turning back to face her and introducing herself with a queer breed of elegance.

"My name is Regina. I need your help."

* * *

"Okay...?"

Emma replies distrustfully, and the brunette wishes the younger woman would just hurry up and invite her to sit down already before her knees buckle beneath her.

She'd done her research- of course she had- before venturing out on this most obscure of trips, but it is still a shock to be stood in front of the blonde. To be in the same room as her. To actually _speak_ to her.

Ironic, as, suddenly she feels at a complete loss for words.

For air.

She is unsure exactly _what_ she had been expecting, and, as Henry has reminded her to do warily this last month, she has tried to keep her guessing and imagination to a minimum. Has strived to keep from reminiscing on a past she is the sole beneficiary of. To keep from musing on their old conversations. The girl's wit. The girl's laugh. The way she smiles. The way she smells.

_The way she tastes._

Standing in front of her now, following one of the most psychologically exhausting car journeys of her life, all she can do is stare.

At Emma.

At her apartment.

At the girl she'd once hauled blindly out of a squalid pit of desolation and despair.

"Um... Lady?"

The blonde prompts uneasily, and Regina swallows as she rues the past ten years devoid of that irritable drawl.

"Regina."

She corrects primly, with no hint of her inner turmoil, and a well-shaped brow raises in return, before the younger woman simply shrugs and agrees.

"Sure. Fine. Regina. What can I do for you?"

Emma asks, and she points to an elegant white sofa accented by a folded throw that looks suspiciously untouched since being pulled from its packaging. Taking a seat and clutching her heavy bag neatly on her lap, the brunette struggles to find an appropriate response before smiling snidely and pointing towards the small kitchenette.

"Celebrating?"

She purrs- hastily avoiding answering any of the blonde's many questions too soon- and she smirks as the latter casts a glance over at the sorry looking cupcake with an ineloquent ' _ugh_ '.

"Is it your birthday?"

The Mayor asks, already knowing the answer.

"Mm."

"I see."

_I know..._

Sighing as she catches a smug look of disdain- a look that for some _unimaginable_ reason she finds queerly intriguing- Emma relaxes slightly and falls into the Eames chair opposite her guest, flashing a great deal of thigh.

"I'm not really a 'birthday' person."

She confides lazily, while regarding the woman sat in front of her with open interest. She has concluded- for now- that the attractive brunette doesn't appear to mean her any harm despite her unusual hour of calling and entering without consent, and, in her line of work, she's been met with stranger situations. She tries once more to ask the darker woman what she wants outright, but when this is met with little response other than a benign comment regarding the decor, she abandons this approach altogether.

She imagines Regina might have a job for her that is out of her comfort zone.

It happens.

It is irregular for her to be approached independently, but not a first, and she's had enough experience with dealing with a disgruntled spouse or family member to know that the entire _concept_ of the underbelly of the judicial system leaves some of them with a bitter taste in their mouth.

_And a favourable hole in their wallet._

Studying the impeccably dressed brunette and the delicate gold chain accenting prettily defined clavicles, Emma surmises that this 'Regina' is most likely horrified at the idea of having anything to _do_ with whatever lowlife she is here to begrudgingly assist.

Of getting her perfectly manicured hands in the least bit dirty.

 _And I do always wonder what the high and mighty like yourself might make of_ me _if you could only see who it is you're_ really _dealing with... I imagine I'd get a pretty good kick out of your expression if you knew what lowly 'delinquent' you were confiding in..._

For now, she lets the matter rest.

After all, the eventual payout will be worth the rude imposition... And, if nothing else, the haughty woman perched rigidly on the sofa for her analysis is deliciously easy on the eye.

Little does she know that the brunette is thinking much the same.

* * *

 _I can't believe it's really_ you _..._

Regina repeats over and over in her head as she meets the blonde's cool gaze expressionlessly. On the outside, she is able to keep her features carefully in check, but internally, her emotions run wild. It is with a great amount of will power alone that she resists her basest urge to greet the younger woman in a way that she imagines might land her with a restraining order given Emma's lack of recollection, but this self-control doesn't go so far as to stop her from studying the never-forgotten curve of the blonde's lips.

_You're all grown up..._

Yes. And oh _hell_ , it isn't making this any easier!

She's had ten years to contemplate what the passing time might have brought to the skinny little imp of a girl she'd once known, but such idle musing had always swiftly become painful, and she'd shut the thoughts out before she could wade too deeply into what was momentarily lost.

Now, though... Well, now she has her answer, and it is one she is entirely in favour of. Lissom, teenage limbs have gained definition and slender muscle, and the low cut of the blonde's cruelly distracting dress hints at the fact that womanhood readily agrees with her.

 _Oh god, why in the world does she have to be wearing that dress?!... Why in the world_ is _she_ _wearing that dress?_

A good enough question she believes, but then she supposes she knows little of Emma's tastes these days. Something that is seconded in the elegant luxury of the apartment the younger woman appears to be renting. The Boston address had thrown her unpleasantly at first, but once she'd made her way into the city and followed the neatly penned directions Henry had helped her to glean from the internet, she'd quickly come to realise the vast metropolis hosts _many_ faces, and this one couldn't be further from the squalor she remembers. Curiously though, however stylish the younger woman's apartment might be, the Mayor gets the underlying sense that Emma doesn't spend a great deal of time here. At least, not in _this_ room. It seems almost for show. Proof.

A woman with a credit card creating the meticulous theatre set of the life a forgotten little girl once wanted.

She supposes Emma might have most people fooled.

But not her.

She knows.

For one... There are no books in here save for a couple of carefully placed, expensive picture books on the coffee table.

Glancing over towards the door of what she presumes to be the blonde's bedroom, she smiles to herself. She would bet a great deal of money on the notion that she is not the _only_ one who has made an art of keeping up appearances. She has her vault. Emma has whatever lies behind that door.

She'd wager almost anything on it.

"I like what you've done with the place."

She offers finally, and Emma looks around indifferently and shrugs.

"I hired someone for most of it. Apart from that little corner of my office, I did that when I moved in."

She points vaguely towards the far corner of the room, and the brunette's breath catches momentarily in her throat as she drinks in a single panel of monochrome, busy wallpaper behind a neat, glass desk.

"Interesting paper..."

"Yeah. Not really my thing usually, but I dunno. I saw it and just kind of couldn't get it out of my head. I only bought the one panel as it's pretty seizure-inducingly fussy, but... It seemed to work for an office."

Emma shrugs once more and Regina swallows, nodding woodenly.

She tries to think of something to say; not used to finding herself struggling in social situations, but overwhelmed by a whole wealth of contradicting emotions upon seeing the girl again.

 _Her_ girl again.

_Woman now..._

"A decent host would offer her guest a drink."

She finally manages- with admirable haughtiness- and the blonde cocks a brow with an irritable flash of her teeth before breaking into a grin and pushing herself from her chair; allowing Regina a candid view of her legs before she tugs self-consciously at the hem of her dress on her way to an impressive cabinet beside an ominous looking painting.

"Yeah, well, I guess we'll use the term 'guest' _loosely_ , then. Way I see it, a 'guest' would have been _invited_ in."

Emma replies smartly as she opens up sleek, grey doors and peers over her shoulder.

"What can I get you?"

Perusing the selection on offer when the younger woman steps out of the way, Regina catalogues the many bottles with an internal sigh. It is a reaction born from conversations long ago, and she knows that _logically_ she has no ground to stand on when it comes to her opinion of the blonde's drinking habits now that she's nearing thirty. That said, save to say that whatever Emma _lacks_ in birthday treats, she _more_ than makes up for with liquor. A vast artillery graces the shelves of the cabinet, and the brunette is intuitive enough to know that a woman spending her own birthday alone is unlikely to host a great many parties where such excess is necessary.

 _Stop that. You know_ nothing _about her life as it is now. Who's to say the amount of choice represents the amount actually consumed? And who's to say she_ has _spent her birthday_ _alone_? _... I doubt a woman enjoying her own company would chose to do so in a dress most definitely designed for_ another's _pleasure._

The thought sends a sudden white flare of jealousy coiling down her spine, and her fingers tighten on the soft leather of her bag.

"Any day now...?"

Emma interrupts her inner possessive wrath, and she glances up at the blonde distractedly as the latter waits impatiently. Looking back to the selection at hand- shaken by the intensity of her feelings all these years later- she finds a slow smirk creeping languidly across her lips as anger is replaced by fond disdain.

"...No gin?"

She comments innocently.

"Ugh, _no_. I don't touch that crap. You know that bitter kind of taste is what you're supposed to watch out for with _poison_?"

"...Do you find people attempting to poison you often?"

The brunette counteracts- touching her tongue to the roof of her mouth as she smells imaginary apples- and laughing when the blonde throws her a glare and helps herself to a very generous shot of bourbon.

"You know, _that's_ the kind of question that could make a girl nervous when it's asked during an- admittedly civilised- home invasion."

"Oh, please, I knocked, you answered, I just took my cue."

Regina retorts silkily, and she feels an incredible mantle of warmth begin to shroud her despite having yet to touch a single drop of liquor.

_It's just nice. This. Us. different, but nice._

Yes, nice not to be spoken to with the caution she is met with back home. Self-inflicted, she will readily admit, but tiresome just the same. Only Henry speaks to her as though she's a person rather than a title.

"Yeah, well, if _you_ don't make a decision, I'm going to decide _for_ you, so-"

"-Fine."

"... Fine?"

"Do so. You _clearly_ know more than I do when it comes to liquor."

The brunette elaborates with a snide gesture of her hand that hints at the rather impressive scale of the younger woman's collection, and Emma greets this ill-hidden insult with the lazy sarcasm Regina had hoped she would. The kind she's missed.

"Clearly. You should educate yourself. It will take that bitchy edge off."

The blonde replies icily, pouring her guest a companionably immoderate amount of Jim Beam.

Such rudeness goes only half heard as the Mayor thinks back to the _last_ time she'd let Emma choose her fate, that time at the hands of the motel's mini bar. She surmises that the bourbon in her hand is a profound step up from the tequila knocked back amidst over-laundered sheets, but she'd still trade circumstances in an instant. She recalls the way the blonde had grinned at her, perched on the bed with her legs childishly crossed- completely naked while clinking the small bottle in her hand against her own- and takes a deep sip of expensive bourbon as her eyes travel the new and unexplored lines of the younger woman's svelte frame.

Her heart beats a frantic rhythm as she knows that it's only a matter of time before Emma resumes her questioning, and she has no _clue_ just what it is she means to tell the younger woman to explain what she's doing here.

Who she is.

Much less, what she wants from her.

These are all important topics that Henry has badgered her about ever since she'd first mentioned her plan to finally go and locate the blonde, but, no matter how stern the boy had become about Operation Ocelot- a name she has never quite understood- she'd found herself no closer to a solution in spite of the hours spent fretting over one.

_Well, it's fitting in a way. When we first met it was under the same guise of mystery and riddles..._

True, but at _that_ time Emma had been playing her _own_ game of cat and mouse. She'd been in no position to question the woman offering her a free meal and surprisingly amiable companionship. _Now_ the blonde seems very much in control. She already has the comfort and security that had once been so lacking in her life; making her an easy and malleable target. She doesn't need a hand out- at least, not any kind that Regina can provide her without a great deal of explanation- and she has learnt from her past. That much is clear. She has done well for herself, but she knows what it's like to be on the other side. The brunette has no doubt that the younger woman remains just as wily and street smart as she had been all those years ago, and this makes her a damningly difficult sparring partner.

 _I want to help you. I want to help you to help_ me. _To help_ us _._

Taking another sip of bourbon, she offers a smile as the blonde's gaze remains trained raptly on her.

She just can't help herself.

"Who _are_ you, Regina?"

Emma asks quietly, and the brunette ruminates on this question and how best to answer it solemnly, before confiding silkily.

"I'm your birthday present."

Silence, and then the younger woman snorts with laughter- coughing on a mouthful of hard liquor- and relaxes visibly.

"No offence, but you are the strangest looking strip-o-gram I've ever seen. And I don't have any friends to send me one!"

She chuckles. Regina simply smirks back; no clue what it is that the blonde refers to, and not in the least bit surprised at Emma's bluntness towards her lack of companionship. It is a shame- she may not have ever favoured the relationship between the Waitress and her girl, but she'd still been able to see its benefit on the blonde- but not something that shocks her. She is fairly sure it's by choice.

Calming down a bit, Emma reaches awkwardly over to the cabinet and helps herself to another drink, musing softly.

"Ok, so, I believe we've both established you're not here to give me a 'happy ending'. Wanna tell me what the hell you _do_ mean?"

She challenges, attempting to ignore the childish voice in her head that suggests she would be more than ok with the curious brunette giving her a birthday treat.

"That's _exactly_ what I mean, Miss Swan."

Regina smiles, and green eyes narrow as the younger woman sips at her drink and waits for the punchline.

"It just depends on whether you can find it within yourself to trust me."

"...And then what, Obi Wan?"

_Funny, I don't remember asking for a fucking nut job this year..._

"It'll become clear soon enough."

"Oh god..."

"Happy Birthday, Emma."

Regina offers, raising her glass. Topping it up with a roll of her eyes- much to the brunette's surprise and amusement- Emma falls back into her chair and swirls her drink.

"Yeah. Sure. Happy Birthday. Whatever."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There will be actual storyline when I decide on one! For now... I missed this! Also, yes, one line in this is shamelessly stolen from Cyanide & Happiness ;) It fit, though. Hope you enjoy, and please review! :)

Four drinks in, and there is a profound change in the atmosphere of the blonde's flat. The woman in question now sits curled up in her chair- her legs carefully arranged to hide the scant flash of her underwear, but only just- as she chuckles huskily at something her curious guest tells her. Regina's anecdote references an obscure series of books she had once read so repetitively as a teenager that the pages had furled out like yellowing smiles. It is not a trilogy that ever made much noise in the grand scheme of the literary world, and she is highly surprised that the brunette has heard of it at all, but secretly pleased. The Mayor speaks mainly of the second book of the three, and she nods along with a smile while contemplating the dwindling amber in her glass.

"Yeah, I agree, I never much liked her either, although she's supposedly the 'good' one out of the twins. The second book was always my favourite, but I lost my copy years ago. I had all three of them in my car... For storage... But I could never find it after... Well, I just could never find it."

She finishes with a little more conviction after coming to the realisation that she sits frowning into the distance, and she looks up to offer a small shrug and a smile.

Regina reciprocates with a complex expression- knowing _exactly_ where the blonde's misplaced book happens to be, but doubting if informing Emma she has it tucked away safely in her nightstand will go down all that well- and rests her elbow on the back of the sofa casually.

"She's irritating, but she's the protagonist-"

"-Precisely. Never liked them."

"Quite... You know, a... A friend once told me that we are all the protagonists in our own stories..."

She smiles sipping at her drink, while acknowledging dubiously how much truth lies behind this old statement- shared between them ten years ago in her study, accompanied by the calming patter of rain- as the heavy weight of Henry's book presses against her thigh concealed within the plush leather of her bag.

"Hmm. I prefer to think I'm the _antagonist_ in everyone _else's_ story."

Emma grins, and dark eyes roll with a deep and fiery mirth before flickering surreptitiously down as the younger woman shifts in her seat.

This sly glance doesn't go unnoticed by the blonde- whose limbs feel loose and pleasantly relaxed as the whisky works its magic- but she decides not to mention it.

Yet.

She is aware of the fact that she is perhaps a little inebriated following the wine at dinner- well, the glass and a half she'd enjoyed before the rest had ended up on her dress- and that sordid innuendos and accusations aren't _everyone's_ cup of tea. The brunette has an air about her that is almost alarmingly proper, and the fact that her gaze drops now and then to the suggestive shadows between pale legs might have just as much to do with sheltered curiosity as it has to do with any interest in catching a glimpse of black lace.

_A shame. The second option would be so much more fun..._

And she should probably stop drinking...

"How come you came to me so late at night?"

She asks, pouring yet more whisky in disregard of her better judgement.

"If it's too late for you, I can leave."

Regina replies primly while easily avoiding the question.

"No, no, at least finish your drink, I was only asking."

The blonde growls, waving her hand dismissively.

"I'm surprised you're home, actually, as it's your birthday."

Regina continues, not surprised in the slightest.

"I got in about ten minutes before you showed up. Around midnight. I'm twenty-eight, not eighteen, I'd say I'm doing well!"

Emma grumbles, but she flashes a smirk as she knows there to be a secret truth to this last statement; having spent her _actual_ eighteenth birthday in a jail cell. Not that she's about to let the alluring brunette in on this fact.

 _Though it_ would _be amusing to see how fast she excuses herself to leave._

"I wouldn't care to say-"

The Mayor sniffs, though her prudishly polite words come across as more baiting than they do sincere

"-It's none of my business. I hope you at least had a pleasant evening?"

She asks, and this time there really _is_ a hidden directive behind her small talk. She remains curious about the dress. Curious, and slightly _irritated_ , though she knows she is a fool to allow herself to feel such a way.

_It's been ten years._

_For all you know she's in a steady relationship and happy._

_Isn't that what you wanted for her?_

_... No..._

_Not anymore._

_Not now that I've seen her again._

_I've missed her. Missed this. And, of_ course _I want her to be happy, but I didn't think I'd feel this strongly after all these years._

_I knew I still loved her._

_But, I didn't know I would still be_ in _love with her..._

 _And... She_ was _happy with me..._

"Ugh, it wasn't any night that's gonna go down in history, apart from maybe as a black mark against my record with my superior. Depends if the asshole talks or not."

Emma shrugs, interrupting the darker woman's inner struggle with her emotions, and Regina raises a brow questioningly.

"I'm sorry?"

"I was at work."

"... Work..."

The brunette echoes, dark eyes scouring revealing pink with a sour pull to her lips.

"Yes-"

Emma snaps back, not liking the way the darker woman studies her with sudden iciness when only a moment ago she'd done so with appreciation at the very least.

_After all, isn't it a similar job that she's fucking here for in the first place?!_

"-Work. But... Well, I kind of lost the guy. And, then found him. But I got mad and ended up smashing his face into the steering wheel and... Fuck. I probably shouldn't be telling you this..."

The younger woman hisses, looking down at her drink accusingly.

"Work with _what_ 'guy'?"

Regina asks, and the blonde shows open confusion when she drinks in the deep furrow to her guest's brow.

"Just... A guy. I don't know. His wife had plenty of good things to say about him, but if you ask me, he was an A class asshole."

Emma sniffs as she fingers the hem of her dress thoughtfully.

Regina watches the lazy pattern slim fingers make over rich fuchsia and swallows.

"This man... He hurt you?"

"What? No. Nah, he just had a big mouth on him is all. Probably even bigger now, and with a split lip if I'm lucky. Course I'll never hear the end of it come Monday, but sometimes you just gotta beat a bit of gentleman into a dick."

The blonde growls defiantly, and the Mayor swirls her drink as she cautiously sums up enough of what Emma has said to deduce that whatever escapades her evening has entailed are part of her job... Whatever _that_ might actually be.

"Oh, so he's no real friend of yours? Not someone you're seeing yourself?"

She asks with what she hopes is an air of breezy disinterest, before knocking back the remains of her glass rather swiftly. Emma pulls a face in return and shakes her head, sending loose curls tumbling over her shoulders.

 _You've cut it and styled it- not to mention,_ combed _it- but you've kept it long. Pretty. Girlish. Innocent._

_Misleadingly so._

_I always liked that._

"Hell no! Give me some credit!"

The blonde protests, and Regina flashes a smirk before continuing lightly

"Am I then to conclude you have no current romantic interest, given you've spent the night at work rather than with anyone special?"

As soon as the words leave her lips, she is aware of how they sound, and Emma's expression confirms that the younger woman is aware of this too.

"No... Why? You interested?"

The blonde challenges, but she seems oblivious to the sudden tension in the air that follows as she laughs salaciously

"Sorry. I'm only kidding. I'd just figured you were here to offer me a job is all. But, with all these questions, I'm beginning to wonder just what the hell you _do_ want me to do for you?"

She sighs, inflecting her last few words inquisitively. Regina fingers her bag in response, but finds herself struggling to come up with an answer. Throwing caution to the wind, she decides to risk that Emma maintains enough of her former curiosity- and openness- to allow for the chase, and replies honestly

"I'm not so sure you're _ready_ for me to tell you that."

"... Cryptic."

The blonde yawns after a momentary frown, before smiling sleepily

"Well, I'm gonna call it a night. Sorry. It's old age, you know? Did you come far?"

"Maine."

" _Maine?!..._ "

And, what comes next doesn't surprise the brunette one bit.

Though she takes care to keep the warring emotions from showing on her face.

"Well... Shit. You left it kind of late to find any hotels or anything around here... I guess... I mean if you _need_ somewhere to stay..."

The blonde trails off dubiously; not exactly one for sleepovers.

"...I won't stab you in your sleep."

Regina replies quietly, remembering the way Emma had grinned at her all those years ago when demanding just such a promise the first time they'd met.

Now, green eyes study her pensively for a moment, before the younger woman breaks into a chuckle and pushes herself from her chair.

"Good. That's my one prerequisite... You can have the bed."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Enjoy :) Please review! :)

Perching on the soft covers of the blonde's bed, Regina slips off her heels as she looks around the room with great interest. She had been right in her previous presumption that Emma kept her life behind her bedroom door- the sleek style of her living room mostly for show- and a queer sense of nostalgia hits her with cruel ferocity and sits heavy in her chest.

The room is not exactly 'messy', but it lacks the clinical perfection of the rest of the apartment, with the younger woman's possessions clearly treasured but haphazardly cast around for later use. The far wall is comprised of book cases. Three of them- none of them matching- that have been crammed side by side and yawn from floor to ceiling. Several piles have been stacked precariously in the corner as the shelves themselves are close to bursting, and Regina is unsurprised- though painfully wistful- when she pulls a heavy volume out at random to find the pages littered with complex, black scrawl and elaborate little doodles.

"I worried sometimes that I'd begun making things up. Imagining myself a caricature... I've missed you, dear."

She whispers as she runs her finger over a particular seven beaten books she knows well from Henry's own shelves. For reasons she and the boy alone find bleakly amusing, Harry Potter has never failed to irk her, but, she knows the practicalities of how _real_ magic works- of which Henry understands very little, only that his mother will occasionally roll her eyes at the unfortunate teenager's more outlandish adventures- offer little to blemish her son's enjoyment of the series. She imagines for Emma, Harry's world would make just as much sense as the one she was born into. For Emma, the books are just stories, and ones she enjoys immensely if the state of the dust jackets are anything to go by.

But then, the she'd known this already.

They've discussed the books before.

In the past.

It was what had led her to buy them for Henry.

Over in the corner sits another desk, smaller and more chaotic than the sleek glass favoured in the main room. _The show room_. Cramped writing crawls over wrinkled pages like ants emerging the nest, and a chipped plate caked with a dry exoskeleton of splattered paint rests beside an unwashed wine glass stained with a light haze of crimson. The brunette had skimmed the illustrations and messy scrawl before she'd made her way to the bed, but she'd refrained from touching any of the pages to delve deeper.

Not sure she's quite ready for that yet.

"If I'll ever be."

she murmurs, getting up to strip off her clothes and folding them neatly to rest on top of an old, ornate dresser; a rather galactic step up from the cardboard box Emma had once used to store her garments. She stops herself from pilfering through the drawers in the same way as she had once so candidly examined the younger woman's clothes, not so much out of any code of honor, but more because she is worried about what she might find. When she had been in this position before, her expectations had been low and bitter. Cruel. And she had been wrong. Now... She just doesn't want to know the truth. Doesn't want to happen upon flimsy lace as she has no clue what she should do with such a discovery.

_All grown up now._

The thought resonates in her mind, and shatters there; becoming a splintered, multi-faceted response to one simple fact.

And this is hard.

So hard.

She'd known it would be, of course.

Had actually worried- quite reasonably- that she'd struggle to even get in as far as she _has_.

To speak to the blonde at _all_ without the girl turning her away back into the unknown.

Of course, _another_ part of her had known it would be like this.

Like before.

Only, _this_ time, she's not found herself curled up on a sorry looking mattress amidst the despair of the blonde's existence.

No.

She looks over at the smartly dressed queen bed- simple grey covers, but luxurious to the touch and accented with two plain white pillows on either side- and smiles.

_You've moved up in the world, Swan._

Not exactly difficult of course, given the state of things when they had first met, but she is still pleased.

And a little proud.

Turning off the lights and slipping beneath the covers, she represses a shiver as the delicate scent of detergent mixes with the faint note of the blonde's perfume. It is not a brand that she recognises, but it carries a hint of vanilla that she is unable to disassociate with the girl.

_Woman, now._

Yes, she supposes so, in a way- _in a rather distracting way!_ \- but a part of her refuses to see it like that.

To see Emma like that.

She is a woman now- and apparently a successful one, although what she might actually _do_ for a living is still somewhat up for question- but she's still Regina's girl.

"I still care."

She mutters as her eyes adjust to the dim glow of the moonlight seeping in through the curtains, mixed with an eery haze of neon.

_You'd better get your head around that though, dear. So far as Miss Swan is concerned, you're an unexplained visitor encroaching on her space. .. You'd better have a story to spin her tomorrow morning._

Yes, she better. Because, right now, the truth is most certainly not an option.

Not yet.

Fumbling in her bag to retrieve her phone and charger- having come more prepared this time in her attempt to enter the younger woman's life- she spots an outlet beside the narrow, chipped nightstand and plugs it in. A message icon blinks demandingly in the bottom corner of the screen and she opens it up with a yawn as she pulls sweet smelling cotton over her nose.

_Henry 11.56pm_

_And?!_

Chuckling at the breed of impatience she understands is entirely hereditary, she places the phone back on the nightstand while making a mental note to respond at a reasonable hour. _Not_ that she imagines Henry will have gone to sleep at Sydney's request of course- such a thing would be unlikely on a _regular_ evening, but given what's at stake, she is fairly sure the boy will have been struggling to stay up as long as possible- but, he is still ten years old after all, and she refuses to indulge such misbehaviour with an answer at two am.

"I found her. That's the _first_ step."

She murmurs, and she turns onto her side as the cell's screen stays momentarily lit. Its dull glow casts faint light up onto a small, framed picture, and the brunette studies the hectic lines of ink that culminate into a small illustration of someone she recognises immediately.

"Hello, Caskett."

She whispers, before closing her eyes and striving to let go of the monumental tension that has ravaged her all day.

* * *

Curled up on the sofa, Emma glances over at her bedroom door thoughtfully, before rolling onto her back to study the ceiling. Car lights from down below spill across the walls of the room, and glitter off the bottles in her liquor cabinet as she has left the doors gaping open.

"What the fuck?"

She asks of herself quietly; itching her nose.

She can count the times she has had someone stay with her- for reasons outside of... Well... There are some things you get into trouble doing out on the street- on one hand.

One _finger_ , actually.

Morgan, the grown up daughter of one of the few people she _can_ tolerate- an unassuming accountant with a stutter that had gone to her gym back when she'd lived in Arlington- had come up east to do a tour of New England. Stuttering Steve- or, just plain _Steve_ , as she'd always had to remind herself to call him- had sent her an email out of the blue asking if his daughter could spend a couple of nights with her while she toured Boston.

And hell, hadn't _that_ been awkward...

She rolls her eyes in the darkness, much like Morgan had done towards her frequently during her visit.

_Never claimed to be good with kids..._

No. Children are certainly not high on her list of talents, and she's always been more than happy to keep it that way.

Still, at least with little Miss Thing, it had been an organised visit.

Planned.

_Not like this!_

The very fact that she has invited a complete stranger to make use of her bed and share her personal space is so far from her norm that she's had to glance over at the Mayor's coat _several_ times to make sure she hasn't simply imagined the entire encounter.

"Oh, she's real."

She breathes in the shadows, mind flickering distractedly as the darker woman had demanded such strong sense of 'pull' from her that it had actually scared her a little bit.

 _Oh, fuck, Swan, don't you fucking start! Could you be any_ less _reasonable with who you choose to lust over?_

"It's not me, it's my loins!"

She argues back at those faceless voices with a giggle, before sighing as an after thought

"It's not lust. It's just I'm fairly sure that a smartly dressed older woman showing up for no plausible reason is how a high percentage of porn starts. If she'd come baring pizza or offering to fix my shower, we'd be on our second round by now."

This thought causes her to laugh helplessly in the dark, and she supposes it's really a _good_ thing she so infrequently has guests, as practices like this are generally frowned upon.

_Or feared..._

Smiling, she pulls the slightly itchy weave of the throw up over her head and strives to get some sleep; exhausted after a stressful day and a highly perplexing evening. Reaching down a hand and feeling around blindly, it is only when a frown crosses her sharp features and her searching fingers come up empty that she realises what she's doing.

"...Fuck..."

_What the hell?_

The movement had been instinctual- habit- of a time long gone.

She shivers; knowing what she'd been looking for.

Looking for her cat.

For Caskett.

"What the hell...?"

She swallows; a little spooked.

After all, Caskett hasn't been around for over nine years now, and while it had taken her a month or so to stop searching for the tabby when half asleep, it's not something she's done for a good number of years.

"What the actual hell?"

She repeats, fingering the throw uneasily, before shaking herself from her thoughts and curling up tightly with her eyes squeezed shut.

 _See,_ this _is what happens when you invite potential psychopaths into your home, Swan. She's only been here an hour, and already strange things are occurring! She's probably not even real! You know how these things work; you've seen enough movies. Hell, I bet you could put a hand straight through her!_

_... Mhhm. Well, maybe I'll just give it a go with a couple of fingers, and-"_

But the rest is lost in the idle blur of dreams as the blonde drifts off to sleep with a small smirk tugging at her lips.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Bit short, but feel special as I didn't even finish work so that I could do this... That may bite me in the ass tomorrow -_- Anyway, yes, enjoy, and please review :)

When she wakes up, the brunette suffers a brief moment's confusion as to where she finds herself, but it doesn't last anywhere near as long as the last time she'd wound up crashing at Emma's. For one, this visit is one she has spent the past ten years planning to some extent, and for another... Unlike before when the situation had found her confused and perturbed, she no longer dwells uncomfortably in the unknown. Instead, she dances precariously around the unfamiliar, and this is something else entirely she is beginning to learn.

She recognises the old coat hanging from the back of the door. Recognises the mismatched candles dotting the windowsill. Recognises the half read book on the nightstand furthest away from her with a nondescript black pen handy bedside it.

Of course, she has never _seen_ any of these items before in her life, but, she recognises them just the same.

They fit with where she is, and she knows without a shadow of a doubt that if she'd been placed here, in this room, without a scrap of information about the place... She'd have known in an instant who lives here.

_It's too early to be getting sentimental, dear._

She reminds herself sternly, but, it's hard to keep from the tempestuous tide of her thoughts, as she's had ten years to nurture the deep wounds left in her psyche following her drive back from their motel tryst.

Ten years of itching to start sleuthing- to check to make sure everything was going _alright_ \- and knowing that she would be a fool to open Pandora's box too soon.

Knowing she would get sucked in the second she started allowing the blonde back into her life in any form other than just memory.

Day to day, she is highly practical, and- she will admit- a little haughty and self-serving. This is only a minor flaw however when, by all accounts, Regina Mills gets the job done.

That said, she will privately admit that she is culpable of letting her emotions drive her in ways she sometimes wishes they wouldn't. Her feelings and grief for Daniel had resulted in her casting the curse. Her feelings for Emma had resulted in her wanting to _reverse_ that great wrong done all those years ago.

Simply put, she wouldn't say she has the best track record of letting logic win out.

A smirk at this.

Emma had told her something similar when they'd bickered back in her office as the weather had begun to turn all those years ago.

Emma has _always_ been able to read her well.

"That goes both ways... And you would do well to think up some reason to keep Miss Swan interested before her walls come up."

She sighs as she pushes herself from the bed with a slight hint of reluctance and pads warily for the door. Wrapping her fingers around the handle, she glances down at the black silk of her pyjamas to check they sit where they should, before entering the main room with a deep breath.

* * *

Regina had wondered if she would find the blonde still curled up on the sofa. Had almost hoped she would...

As it is, she finds Emma brewing some divine smelling coffee in the small kitchenette, already showered and dressed.

"Hello."

The Mayor heralds her host a little awkwardly, and Emma glances over her shoulder and nods in response as she pulls two mugs down onto the counter and stalks to the fridge.

"How do you take yours?"

She asks, and the brunette swallows as she recalls- once upon a time- asking the girl for a splash of milk in her sorry looking cup and being turned down with a clear hint of embarrassment. Eying up the sleek silver of the younger woman's fridge and the italian piece of art steaming away on her counter top, Regina raises a brow as she takes a seat on one of the high bar stools surrounding the kitchen island.

"Cappuccino if that's possible."

"Course it is."

Emma replies matter-of-factly, and the brunette smiles stiffly in return as she feels both glad and nostalgically mournful.

"Thank you."

She nods as the blonde offers her a foam-topped mug, and the younger woman shrugs as she sips from her own while regarding her guest curiously over tar-black coffee laced with sugar.

"I would offer you breakfast, but I'm afraid half a cupcake or some toast is the best I can do... And it'd be more like a quarter of a cupcake, honestly."

"I think I'll pass. It _pains_ me, but I'll pass."

The Mayor smirks, and this warrants a more authentic grin as Emma shrugs once more and plucks up the remainder of the sorry looking cake and crams it into her mouth before licking her fingers clean.

Regina studies her coffee intently.

"Well, there's a place just a couple of doors down that does some mean pancakes."

The blonde continues, and the darker woman greets this open offer with genuine surprise; not having believed it would be this easy.

 _Ah, but if there's_ food _involved..._

"That sounds good..."

She replies, before balking slightly when Emma confides

" _Then_ you can tell me what exactly it is you _want_ with me."

A smile, and the brunette feels a low fluttering in her stomach at several _other_ ways such words could be taken.

"Mhmm."

Emma has exchanged the uncharacteristic- at least, so far as Regina is concerned- pink provocation of last night's dress for tight black jeans and a plain black tank top, which seem to suit her a lot better... Not that it makes trying to ignore her inner desires any easier. Quite the opposite. It is an ensemble that she supposes shows hints of the girl she'd befriended years ago, but the blonde is no longer a 'girl' and dark denim allows little room for the imagination.

"Deal?"

Emma interrupts her inner perversion as she goes about tying her hair back with swift efficiency.

"... One shouldn't make deals with the devil, Miss Swan."

Regina replies silkily, and the younger woman grins as she takes her cup to the sink.

"Are you the devil, Regina?"

"Would I tell you if I was?"

"Probably not."

The blonde laughs, before raising a brow when the darker woman muses quietly

"But who says I was referring to _myself_ as the devil in that instance?"

Thinking on this with no signs of offence or discomfort at the Mayor's rather odd proposition, the younger woman eventually smiles and holds her hand out for Regina's empty cup.

"Well, I guess in _that_ respect it would do no good telling you I'm not guilty. I would tell you that if I was or I wasn't."

"Hmm. Hardly comforting, but refreshingly honest."

"Well, it's just lo-"

"-logic."

Regina interrupts, rolling her eyes.

Catching the way Emma looks at her with a glimmer of unease- the brunette's reaction inexplicably, well, _familiar_ \- she offers a polite smile and asks to use the bathroom.

Needing to get away.

Needing to think.

* * *

Inside the bathroom- while not working off the haze of a generous helping of bourbon- the Mayor looks around curiously. Unlike before, the little room is neat and well stocked. Matching bottles of shampoo and conditioner align the curved side of a generous tub, along with a variety of lotions and creams. The blonde's collection is still small compared to her own, but not quite so dismal as before.

Also, she now appears to own more than one towel.

Finding a neat stack of fluffy, grey towels in a tallboy by the sink, Regina helps herself to one and studies the knobs of the shower that presides over the tub. Figuring out the necessary order of turning and adjusting, she holds a hand beneath the spray until it becomes warm.

It takes only three seconds.

_Fancy, dear!_

She chides gently in her head, and, she wonders if Emma thinks on things the way she does now as she goes about her life in this nice little apartment. Wonders if Emma braces herself each time she gets into the shower expecting the frigid jet of water and cracked enamel from before.

She imagines that she does.

Emma had clung on to her past just as fiercely as she had herself.

She doubts that's changed.

Shrugging off the black silk of her shirt and slipping from soft, loose pants, she steps into the shower and shivers beneath the luxurious thrum of hot water. She takes her time, sampling a number of the younger woman's bath products. It feels strange to do so- her time spent away from the comfort of her own home minimal- as she begins to smell and feel a little like someone else.

Not a _stranger_ , though.

No. It's worse than that. More painful.

Shutting off hot water and stepping out onto a thick, white bathmat, she dries off, before combing her fingers through the wet tangles of her hair and smelling honey. Catching herself in the mirror, she studies her reflection shrewdly, before completing the final task of this obscure case of deja vu. Running her fingers down the side of the glass, she feels for a well hidden catch in the very nihilistic design of the cabinet. Sliding the mirror away to reveal its contents, she studies her find with a frown.

Whereas everything else about the blonde's life seems to have changed, her medicine cabinet seems almost identical to the one from before.

Razors.

Tampons.

Birth control pills meticulously taken.

Pain killers- both over the counter and prescription.

Prozac.

_But why-_

"-Did you _die_ in there?"

Emma calls through the door, and the brunette rolls her eyes and closes the cabinet with a huff.

"No."

"Well, do you think we could go get food before I die out _here_?"

Comes the disgruntled response, and Regina smirks as she slips into dress pants and a blouse, shaking her head.

_"Some things never change."_


	5. Chapter 5

The coffee place Emma takes them to is small and crowded. A cheerful, petite girl who Regina imagines to be in her second year of college at the very most leads them over to a narrow table towards the back of the bustling room with an amiable smile and the request that the blonde let her know what she's made of something called Assassin's Creed.

"I keep dying!"

Emma laughs, and the girl snickers back and tells her with a roll of glittering brown eyes that she's not surprised, before pouring them each a mug of freshly brewed coffee and leaving them to look over a couple of menus.

"Friend of yours?"

Regina asks casually- at least she hopes so- and the younger woman shrugs without looking up and replies distractedly

"I suck at making pancakes. I come here a lot."

_And you have quite the track record with waitresses_

The brunette adds on in her head, but she merely smiles when Emma looks up at her while dosing her coffee with several sachets of sugar. The blonde reciprocates mechanically, but the expression doesn't quite reach her eyes which glitter calculatingly. The Mayor supposes that from what she _has_ managed to figure out about what the younger woman does for a living, Emma spends a fair amount of her time trying to suss out those around her, but it still hurts a little none the less.

She is unsurprised that the blonde seems to be doing well for herself on this path, however; Emma had always had a _knack_ for reading people. Even Gold in the end.

This last thought sends a jolt of adrenaline through the darker woman's veins, as she has little clue what the old pawnbroker might make of her decision to seek Emma out, and she doubts vey much that he will refrain from meddling in their affairs once he has realised the town's Mayor is missing on a very _significant_ day.

"Do you know what you're having?"

Emma interrupts her train of thought, and she sighs as she glances back down at the menu and laments

"Well, there's not _much_ on here for those not wishing to court death by coronary. I guess I'll have the fruit salad by sheer process of elimination."

Green eyes roll lazily, before locking challengingly with the brunette's when the waitress comes back and smirks at Emma's order of a large stack of pancakes with a side of bacon.

"You _sure_ you want the full stack, Swan?"

The young girl grins, and the blonde nods without once breaking eye contact with the Mayor who orders her fruit salad with an air of superiority and an ill-hidden smile.

"I do hope your stubbornness won't extend to forcing yourself to _finish_ that."

She goads as she nods over towards a man sat in the corner perspiring rather profusely and mopping up great pools of syrup with an alarming amount of fluffy, golden pancake.

"Just watch me."

The blonde replies smartly, and Regina shakes her head despairingly and sips her coffee. She wants to goad Emma further, but doesn't quite dare. The way she _wants_ to talk to the blonde- to mess with her- is painfully familiar, but she understands that it would be wise to keep their back and forth to a minimum for now, before she oversteps her boundaries and sends alarm bells ringing for the younger woman.

"Thank you for letting me stay last night."

She smiles instead, and Emma shrugs a little uncomfortably and stares past the brunette at the bustling chaos of the Diner.

"You're welcome. I'm not usually one for company, but it was late and you'd come quite some way."

She looks back to Regina and raises a brow questioningly as she muses on this last part, and the darker woman swallows as she studies sharp features- both wonderfully familiar and devastatingly changed- and leans back in her chair.

"I suppose you're wondering why that is..."

She starts, and Emma nods as she swirls her coffee in its cup thoughtfully and waits.

"You said you needed my help?"

"Yes."

Regina replies, and she ruminates over what little information she'd managed to gather on the younger woman's job while the latter had disappeared into her bedroom before they'd set off for breakfast and tries to use this to her advantage.

"I'm looking for someone."

She explains, and the blonde nods again and gestures that the Mayor should go on as their food is placed in front of them by the young waitress who grins at Emma over the mountain placed before her. Regina suffers a brief wave of possessive irritation, followed swiftly by a haze of confusion. It is unlike her to feel the way she is currently feeling. She is not someone that doesn't get what she wants in _most_ situations, but when amorous attraction is on the table, she has so far never been turned down. To not have Emma showing her the open affection as she might like sits unfavourably with her, however much she strives to remind herself it is to be expected.

Recalling the way the blonde had flirted with her hopelessly for the best part of a week all those years ago, she smiles a little sadly and spears a chunk of melon on her fork; wanting to know what it is Emma makes of her _now,_ yet knowing that her attention should be directed towards more pressing matters.

"Who are you looking for?"

The blonde prompts through a mouthful of pancake, and the Mayor sighs as she considers how best to answer.

_The Saviour._

_...And, I've found her... But the rest isn't up to me._

_This is entirely on_ you _, Miss Swan._

_Dear._

"A girl."

"A girl?"

Emma asks curiously, and the brunette smiles as she courts a grape with obscure elegance and shrugs.

"Well. A _woman_ , I suppose. Someone very important to me."

"Alright. What have you got on her?"

"Excuse me?"

"How good's your intel?"

"My intel?"

Regina frowns, and the blonde sighs impatiently as she begins on the second pancake of five with alarming speed; licking syrup deftly from her knife in a way that causes the Mayor's stomach to clench in a manner that is not _entirely_ unpleasant.

" _You_ know- what do you know about her? How _hard_ is it going to be to find her? How much information do you have? I need to figure out a rate. Otherwise, I'll have to charge you by the day, but I'm not going to want to do _that_ if you have nothing for me to work with... It would be good for _me_ , you understand? But not for you. Ordinarily, I couldn't give a crap, but... I don't take a girl out to breakfast only to screw her."

Emma grins, and the Mayor studies her in surprise; not sure how best to answer, and thrown by the definite touch of innuendo in the younger woman's remark. She knows she would have scolded Emma all those years ago for speaking the way she does, but right now, she doesn't mind at all. There is a definite element of harmless flirtation in the blonde's tone, but her words ring true; Regina knows that _nothing_ about this situation is usual for the girl, and not just because of last night's impromptu sleepover. She has no doubt that Emma means it when she says it is unlike her to play nicely when it comes to her line of work, and yet...

 _And yet, for_ me _she is willing to make an exception_.

She tells herself not to be a fool, and smiles rather smugly anyway.

" _Girl_ , Miss Swan?"

Again a roll of glittering eyes, accompanied this time with a snort of derision.

"Woman. Whatever."

"Thank you."

A sultry smirk.

A slow grin in return.

"So?"

"I... I don't know what it is you need. I can't answer how hard it will be to find her. It depends how hard she _makes_ it."

The brunette sighs, and the blonde cocks her head at this and smiles.

"Well, it's nice to meet someone who respects _that_ part, anyway. So what _do_ you have?"

"... Hope."

The Mayor answers quietly, and her teeth show in a flash of irritation when Emma chokes on a mouthful of sticky, sweet syrup in her amusement.

"Yeah, well, 'hope' isn't really any kind of help to me. I need more than _hope!_ Information is what I need. Last known address, friends and relatives, hobbies, career history, that kind of thing..."

"None of those things will help you find her."

Regina sighs, and Emma raises a brow as she points out reasonably enough

"Look, you came to me because this is what I _do_. Now you're arguing with my methods?"

"I'm not arguing. I'm telling you flat out that you're wrong."

The brunette replies simply, and the blonde's brow furrows, before she cracks into a wide grin. She is not ordinarily somebody that likes being told that they're mistaken- especially about things that she has proven to excel at- but the sheer cheek of the haughty, strange woman sat across from her is inexplicably refreshing. It stirs up something within her that has lain dormant for a long time. A need to prove herself. To make the next move. She knows that what the brunette is doing is baiting her, and she is surprised in herself that she's enjoying it.

Because this Regina has fire.

Not just the arrogance and stiffness she shrouds herself with, but real _fire_.

 _Dangerous_ fire.

And the blonde has always been a sucker for getting burnt if the flames promise to flicker brightly enough.

_And it doesn't hurt that she has this whole 'femme fatale' thing pretty much down..._

_... Enough of that, Swan. Behave before that burning becomes a charring to a crisp!_

"Who is she?"

Emma asks with a small smirk at the voices in her head, and Regina smiles as she senses she has the younger woman partially hooked.

_You always were the best of sparring partners. Whether amiably or angrily, you played your part well. You matched me. That is not something I could say about many._

"An old friend of mine. Someone I miss a great deal."

"You gonna give me a _name_ any time soon?"

The blonde asks, curious to know more about the girl- woman- the Mayor seeks, and not just out of professional interest. The way Regina speaks about her missing friend is telling, and Emma finds her attention peaking as she entertains the possibility that the brunette's association with this mystery woman might go _beyond_ friendship. She tells herself sternly to quit with such ideas- whether there is any truth behind them or not- but is unable to stop herself from studying the darker woman a little more intently as her mind devours this potential information. It has been a long time since she last pursued any extra curricular activities outside of simple deceptive flirtation to aid her for work, and much longer still since she's explored the fairer sex. That said, she has always simply been drawn to what attracts her- seldomly, but strongly- and she supposes she is willing to privately admit that the woman frowning down at a fraudulent canned slice of peach has sparked her interest in more ways than one.

"Earth to Regina?"

"...Let's call her Alice for now."

"Wait... For _now_?"

"Yes, Miss Swan. For now."

The brunette nods, flashing a superior grin and primping back pretty chestnut locks.

Weighing up her current situation thoughtfully, Emma eventually shrugs and takes a generous slurp of her coffee as she swipes finger through the remaining syrup on her plate; having finished the monstrous stack of pancakes with no discernible difficulty.

"Ok. I'll play. But it's gonna cost you... And it's gonna cost you a hell of a lot _more_ quite _quickly_ if you don't have anything for me to go off... So tell me. What's in this for me. What are we talking here?"

"In it for you?"

"Yes.

I suppose, Regina, what I'm asking is, can you _afford_ me?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I made a small notice on my tumblr, but will apologise on here also. I know this fic has been slow in coming. I will try to keep the updates more frequent. I have been doing quite a lot of work on my own writing, which has been bumped up as a priority for the time being. I do miss and enjoy these two, though, so don't take infrequent updates to mean they won't arrive eventually. I'm hoping to have another chapter written for Sunday :) Reviews would be hugely appreciated as always :)

_"I suppose, Regina, what I'm asking is, can you_ afford _me?"_

A sharp intake of breath at this as the Mayor keeps her eyes locked on the blonde's, before the darker woman allows a slow smile to creep across full lips and challenges her long ago ward sultrily.

"Miss Swan. There is very little I _can't_ afford."

Green eyes widen and Regina catches just a glimpse of uncertainty playing behind cool glass, before Emma reapplies her grin and leans back with her arms folded across her chest.

"Well then. How do we begin?"

"I thought you were a professional?"

The brunette teases, and the younger woman raises a brow but her mirth doesn't falter. She is unsure just _what_ to make of the curious situation she finds herself in- not enlightened in the slightest as to how she's supposed to help find the elusive woman Regina seeks if the brunette remains _intent_ on being quite so mysterious- but she finds she doesn't much mind. She is enjoying the darker woman's company, and the Mayor's clipped and proper manner is a refreshing change from the dismal stupidity of her usual clients. She hasn't figured her out yet, and this in itself is an anomoly in the greater scheme of things; in her adult life, she would say one of the things she excels at the most is her perception of others.

With Regina, she continues to be unable to see behind pretty, opaque glass.

The attractive brunette who calls herself The Mayor remains an enigma.

But there's _something_ there. The blonde has no idea just what it might _be_ , but there is something more to her unannounced guest than meets the eye.

Something secret.

"I _am_ a professional."

She replies smartly, and Regina responds with a splaying of her palms that suggests Emma should do a better job of showing it by taking the reigns on this one.

"Well, I guess we can _start_ with you asking for the cheque."

The blonde muses with a glimmer of mischief, and dark eyes glitter back feverishly as the brunette raises a hand in a dismissive yet nationally recognised gesture, and reminds softly

"I thought you weren't one to screw a woman over breakfast?"

Sharp teeth nip at a pale bottom lip momentarily in helpless response to the definite charge behind the Mayor's words- and the brunette in turn swallows silently as she has witnessed this _particular_ habit in several more heated scenarios- before the blonde simply laughs lightly and shrugs slim shoulders with carefree ease.

"That was before you told me you were filthy rich."

She points out, and she meets the Mayor's resultant scowl with a goading flicker of her tongue.

"I warn you, dear; I am not one to tolerate much rudeness from my subordinates."

Regina stokes the fire with a dark glower, and she receives just about as much venom in return as she'd expected.

"Subordinate?"

The blonde growls icily, and it's the brunette's turn to raise her jaw in victory as she places gold plastic on top of the folded cheque the pretty little waitress brings over without a glance.

"You're working for me."

"Yeah, as an informer. An agent. Not a receptacle for your haughty _crap_."

Emma points out firmly, and Regina feigns anger as she inwardly enjoys the girl's edge.

"If you're going to use language like that, perhaps I'll take my business elsewhere."

She sniffs, and the blonde shakes her head with iron-clad certainty and refuses to fold.

"That's bull and you know it."

"Do I?"

"You came here from _Maine_. For _me_. Now, I don't know quite why that is yet, but I know _I'm_ the one you want."

Emma points out, and the Mayor grits her teeth as she hates just how much truth lies behind the younger woman's flippant statement. Reading Regina's anguish as irritation, the blonde pulls back just a little and explains warily

"So, just don't call me your 'subordinate'- or worse, your fucking 'secretary'- and we'll be fine."

"Secretary..."

Regina mulls the word around on her tongue, remembering how much amusement Emma had found in calling herself just _that_ back when they'd been friends. Back when she called all the shots.

"It's been known to happen. Not for _long_ , understand! But you do meet some real _assholes_ doing what I do. I think for some idiots, the position of having their own little blonde working for them that they can dress up and order around gives them a real fucking hard on. It's pathetic. Now, I'm _fairly_ sure you're not fantasising about getting into my pants, Madame Mayor, but let me make one thing clear: this is my job. I'm not your bitch."

Regina holds the girl's fiery gaze easily, experiencing an internal battle of emotion. The grittiness in the way Emma speaks both offends her standards and whets her interest. Yet she suffers a simultaneous black _anger_ at the blonde's insinuation that others have treated her poorly, and this doesn't come as much of a surprise. She'd felt that same flash of possessive outrage when they'd first been acquainted, and supposes it is important that she is able to see past that primal fury and recognise a significant distinction between then and now. Back then, Emma had been complacent and simply _irritated_ that others treated her as poorly as she had permitted them to. The blonde's stoniness _now_ is in the face of her anger that she should be _disrespected_. It is an important difference in the brunette's eyes, and one she promises herself she will strive to test only slightly.

After all, she always _had_ respected Emma in her own way.

But, of course, this is not something she is able to explain _now_ to appease the young woman staring her down with an intensity fit to scald, so she simply reclaims her credit card from the bustling waitress and slips it into her purse without another word. She pulls out her phone and checks her messages, spying several from Henry, before looking back up at the blonde with a sigh.

"I will treat you with the same level of respect you offer towards _myself_ , Miss Swan. I would request that you start by refraining from speaking quite so crassly. Free speech is your right, but manners are a luxury I _do_ believe you are able to afford. If you want something from me, it seems fair you show some level of willingness to reciprocate."

Emma blinks, seemingly a little taken aback at being scolded in such a manner, and she pauses to think over Regina's words seriously before offering a curt nod.

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"I won't _promise_ you a word won't slip out here and there that you won't like. I'm willing to _try,_ though."

She finishes with begrudging indulgence, and the brunette smiles victoriously in a promising curve of rich scarlet that leaves Emma privately thinking she'd be quite 'willing' to do a whole _host_ of things.

 _Probably_ things that would fall into the category of the 'crass' nature Regina has requested they avoid.

Almost _certainly_ , in fact.

Grinning, and unable to help herself, she regards the darker woman innocently and inquires politely

"And the fantasising part?"

Returning the blonde's wide-eyed stare loftily, Regina ignores the delicious tightening of her stomach, and replies cooly

"I dare say that would be _inappropriate_ , Miss Swan, wouldn't you?"

"Guess so."

Emma nods, lowering her eyes a little sheepishly, and the brunette smirks as she savours the blush creeping across pale cheeks. She feels painfully nostalgic from the way the blonde's small quips mirror those of when they'd first met, but the sting is softened somewhat by her amusement at this very same fact. She is also rather _curious_ about the way Emma seems a little flustered, and supposes she has her answer as to how the girl might see her now after all.

She is fairly sure the attraction is still there.

She would _expect_ it from others, but with Emma she errs on the side of caution as her psyche has taken quite a battering from the oblivious blonde in the past, and she recognises a need to proceed with care.

She'd once worried that she would allow herself to ruin the young girl so eager to please her.

In the end, it had been Emma that almost destroyed _her_.

She can't let that happen again.

Won't let that happen again.

But... Surely she may still be allowed to _enjoy_ herself just a little.

Pulling herself together, she pushes herself from the table and speaks in a business-like tone.

"I need to call my son. Then I suggest you and I take a walk and get a little better acquainted."

Emma shrugs and nods compliantly, telling herself no... Surely

_Surely she didn't just fucking wink at me..._

"Cool."

She offers nonchalantly, and Regina smiles- all elegance and grace and the blonde tells herself she's imagining things- and stalks outside to stand in the shelter of the cafe's awning as she taps deftly at her phone.

Henry answers midway through the second ring.

"Mom!"

"Me."

She agrees. And she turns to study the blonde chatting to the waitress as she smiles and speaks to her son.

"How are you? Are you in Boston? Have you found her? What's she like?"

"...She's...-"


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I should just save a 'sorry for the wait, please review' message I can copy and paste ;) Hope you enjoy :)

"-She's the Mayor of some town or other in Maine."

Emma shrugs as Cissy leans with her hand rested on the back of the brunette's recently vacated seat and her pen held pensively to her lip.

"What does a _Mayor_ want with _you_!?"

Cissy giggles, and the blonde shrugs once more and glances out the window to study the way the attractive woman who so recently spent a night sleeping in her bed fiddles with her hair as she talks on the phone.

"She has a job for me, though I'm still a bit sketchy on the specifics. For now, I'm just playing it by ear. I mean, I got a free breakfast out of it so far, so who _knows_ where the buck stops."

She smirks, and the waitress rolls her eyes and points an accusatory finger at the older woman she's taken quite a liking to since Emma started coming here a couple of months ago.

"You're bad."

She scolds, and sharp teeth flash back at her fiendishly, before the blonde sets the record straight for the sake of her personal morals.

"I am. Sometimes. But I'm kidding about fucking over Madame Mayor. All dark qualities aside, I'm no longer a thief."

"No longer?"

Cissy asks with a raised brow, and she laughs when the blonde regards her with a serene smile that speaks only of silence on the matter.

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out soon enough."

The waitress grins, and Emma nods as she checks her phone with an irritable roll of her eyes when she opens a message from Ellen Major; a local lawyer so uptight it's a wonder she even has use for the grand bathroom adjacent to her office, and the blonde's current boss.

_Be-El-zebub: My office. Monday 8am. We need to talk._

Yes, Emma sighs, she supposes they do. She imagines Ellen might have just a _few_ things to say about her way of handling last night's situation. Personally, she can't see much of a problem with the way things went down. The state got their fugitive back and no one important- ie, her- was hurt in the process.

"There's just no _pleasing_ some people."

She grumbles, before glancing up as the Mayor slides back into her seat with a brow raised in amusement.

"I'm sorry, what was that? I do hope you weren't talking about _me_?"

"Nah. Not yet."

Emma grins, and dark eyes sparkle at this challenge as the brunette slips her phone back into her bag.

"How's your kid?"

The blonde asks as she pushes herself from the table following a nod from her companion after pointing towards the door.

"He's alright."

Regina replies stiffly, before opening up a little as they filter out onto the street and stroll lazily away from the younger woman's apartment and towards the park

"He was asking about you, actually."

"About _me_?"

Emma frowns, and the Mayor nods as she ignores the small surge of electricity that taunts her as her arm brushes accidentally against the blonde's.

"I was telling him about you. About how you'd agreed to help us."

"Oh."

"Naturally, being ten, he had a great number of questions."

"Right."

The younger woman shrugs, indicating she has no clue what is and isn't natural behaviour for a ten year old, nor gives this lack of knowledge a great deal of concern.

"So your kid knows this Alice too, then?"

"He is equally invested in finding her, yes."

Regina replies after a moment's thought, and the younger woman nods as she puts to rest some of her previous curiosity concerning just how 'close' of a friend Regina might find Alice to be.

_A shame. The mental image was fun while it lasted._

"Oh. Is she a family friend or something?"

A hard glance from her right as the brunette remains momentarily silent, but Emma waits this out easily; of all the questions she imagines might surface over the next couple of days this one is undoubtedly tame, and a pretty basic one in her line of work.

"Yes-"

Regina answers finally

"-that's more or less what she is."

"Okay."

Emma nods, making a small mental note of the way the Mayor's expression seems to be conveying a whole lot more than her words, but she lets it lie for now. She's learnt that the best approach to these situations is to let the other person go on talking. To let _them_ think they're in charge. She doubts this will be all that unnatural for the brunette; the darker woman _reeks_ of authority, which in this particular case is causing her a small amount of private confusion. Authority is not something she tends to take too kindly to beneath the surface, but with Regina...

She's curious. Leave it at that.

_Yes, curious like you were curious about Adam's 'authoritative' manner, you mean? Curious about how that confident arrogance might translate in the bedroom?_

She smirks to herself as she supposes she can see _why_ Ellen Major might find her hard to work with. The 'Adam' in question being one of her marks from a while back, and one she'd eventually tipped off to be shacked up in a Sheraton hotel over in Vermont. She'd even had the room number handy- after all, it had been easy to memorise after two nights spent sharing it. Ellen had been calling the shots on that one too, and had been most unimpressed after receiving a call from Adam's wife, who'd provided most of the information in the first place.

_Oops._

"What are you grinning about?"

Regina interrupts, and the brunette is careful to keep the affection from her tone; not wanting to seem overly familiar.

"I was just thinking how it's a good thing you came looking for me to work for you as I might be out of a job come Monday."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. That guy I told you about? I'm beginning to think my employer might have taken issue with my way of _dealing_ with things."

Emma sighs, before shrugging as they turn a wide corner to start walking back in the direction of her apartment.

"Don't worry, though. I'm good at what I do. And I doubt your Alice will be quite so _dickish_."

"Hmm... I don't know about _that_."

The brunette laughs quietly, before she can help herself. Catching the surprised glance Emma shoots her way, she clears her throat and changes tact swiftly.

"What _did_ happen last night?"

She asks, her mind going immediately to the sinful pink of the blonde's dress as her breath catches in her throat.

"Small time crook jumping bail. Same old story. Same old method- again, no good most likely with your Alice- and more or less the same outcome. I mean, they _got_ the guy. I just lost my cool a bit and smashed his face into his steering wheel in the process."

"Why?"

"He was rude to me."

Emma snaps gruffly, and Regina raises a brow, but says nothing more on this for now. Instead, she goes for information rather than emotion; well versed in how best to get to the point eventually when it comes to the blonde.

At least, she _had_ been.

"What's your method?"

"Well, with stuff like last night I just use my dating profile."

A smirk at this from Emma, and a carefully disguised frown from the Mayor.

"Dating profile?"

"Oh, it's a total sting. Nothing legit. And pretty nauseating, really. I mean, it basically follows the general silent rules of how to be a damsel. I'm talking rom-coms, walks on the beach. Cats-"

And by now, the brunette is smirking too.

"-Just add a couple of 'butter wouldn't melt' images- those are real; my face, not the expression- and the rest is cake of varying degrees of difficulty."

The blonde finishes, and Regina shakes her head in response to Emma's 'idiots' rolling of pretty green eyes.

"Rom-coms and cats, hmm?"

"Oh, the rom-com thing is bull. I'm more of a 'hacked to pieces' kind of girl, but that didn't seem to read quite as hopelessly innocent as you might think. I don't mind cats, though. I used to have one a while back."

"... Yes?"

"Yeah. Caskett. She gatecrashed my life right after I got out of-... When I moved into my apartment on the other side of Boston. That was about ten years ago now. She was sweet, but old."

"... She died?"

"Well, yeah. Cats do that."

Emma shrugs with far more nonchalance than her tone conveys. Studying the younger woman intently, Regina doesn't look away when the blonde's eyes meet hers in a silent challenge, and eventually Emma sighs and continues glumly

"She hung around for a bit. She was old when she came to me, and then she got all torn up on some wire, but she was ok for a while after. I had her for...-"

A frown... The blonde suddenly seeming very distant, before she snaps back and shrugs off the subject _almost_ convincingly

"-A while. Yeah, I had her a while, anyway. Things were, well, not so great when she came to me. Pretty shit, really. Then when things started looking up, we reaped the benefits for a while together- couple of months, I guess- and then one day she just wasn't herself. Things only took a week to, you know, 'end' after that."

"That's a shame."

Regina offers, aware that she is dangerously close to showing a whole host of emotions in response to Cass's passing that Emma might currently find more alarming than companionable.

"Yeah. But you know something? This might sound really dumb, but I kind of feel like she stuck around for me longer than she should have. Like, that she waited to make sure things were ok before finally thinking it might be time to hand in the towel and give her rickety old limbs a break. I know that sounds stupid, but-"

"-No. It doesn't."

The brunette shakes her head, and Emma raises a brow as if not quite willing to commit to believing such a pardon of her wishful thinking, but smiles anyway.

"Well, anyway, Cass was decent. The stuff on there about wanting to be wined and dined is a _definite_ lie, though!"

She laughs, lightening the subject, and the Mayor smirks while inwardly thinking of the dinner she'd made the two of them all those years ago.

_And how that night had ended..._

"I don't see what's not to like."

She remarks primly, and the blonde rolls her eyes as she shoves her hands into her pockets.

"People are so _boring_ and _stiff_ in that situation. Add that to prancing around in some ghastly 'come fuck me' ensemble, and it's not _really_ my idea of a perfect evening. Sadly, it _is_ the most common setting for me to get my job done with the greatest ease."

Regina nods, feeling the colour rise in her cheeks in response to the younger woman's description of her chosen outfits, but outwardly simply smiling back.

"I see."

"Course, _last_ night's dress is ruined. Though, I'd be lying if I said I minded too much. It was listed as _red_ on the internet, but it was too late to send it back. I spent my birthday in a _pink dress_ , can you buy that?! Well... I guess you don't know me. Cass would have seen the irony."

Emma grumbles, and the brunette grins as she stares down at the path, watching their feet move in easy unison; her heels and Emma's boots crunching down pleasantly on the path.

_You don't know me_

_Oh, Emma. Believe me. I'd love to comment on your choice of dress. On your birthday. On a lot of the things you've said. Because I_ do _know you. I_ did _know you. And you've not changed. Not inside. And I'd like nothing more than to wind you up something rotten about it._

"Why is it ruined?"

Is all she says.

"Ah, there's a massive wine stain down the front."

"Yes, I'd noticed that. I meant _how_ did it get ruined? Or did your less-than-damsel self show through the charade."

"Actually, she did _not_. I told you, I'm _good_ at what I do. No, the asshole made a run for it and pushed the table at me in the process to try and create some distance between us."

"Hmm. How uncouth. And yet, you still got him?"

"I did."

Emma grins, and Regina smiles back as she tries probing once more now that she's walked the winding path through the blonde's psyche needed to retrieve any more _private_ information.

"Why was he rude to you?"

"Well, he _probably_ didn't fancy going to jail, I mean-"

"-I meant, what did he _say_? What did he _do_?"

"Oh... Well...-"

The younger woman wrinkles her nose as she tries to find a way to skirt around the subject. Eventually though, with a glance over at the brunette who seems to be playing havoc with both her interest and her mind, she decides to just lay it out there. After all, they're already chatting in a way far more companionable that she would usually expect.

Than she would usually _allow_.

"I told him I'm a, uh, well, I guess an orphan. It was part of trying to lay some groundwork with him, but it's also sort of true. Anyway, I was already kind of mad about the dress and having to stalk down the street in a pair of heels that were _definitely_ not made for any kind of chase, and then he made this comment about me not having any idea what I was talking about when I scolded him for fucking around and screwing with his family... Because I don't have any... So, I got _madder_. And then I got even."

Sighing, as she recalls her promise made during their last twenty-four hours together- her promise that she'd help the blonde find her family and make things better somehow- Regina slows her pace, before turning to face Emma, who comes to a halt with a confused frown and regards her curiously.

"Well, that _was_ extremely rude and uncalled for. If I may though, thinking of yourself as an orphan doesn't mean you are unable to comprehend what it is to have a family. Sometimes we _choose_ our family...

Do you want to know a secret?"


	8. Chapter 8

"Do you want to know a secret?"

Regina raises a brow in question, and is unsurprised when her offer garners her a wary look.

"I guess?"

Emma replies uncertainly, and the brunette nods; taking this as an affirmative answer and meeting the younger woman's gaze seriously.

"I chose _my_ family."

"Yeah?"

The blonde replies, and Regina can see the discomfort she fails to hide in the set of her jaw and the hunch of her shoulders. She imagines Emma thinks this might be some attempt to try and force some sense of camaraderie, but that she doesn't honestly believe their situations could have anything to do with each other. Keeping the younger woman's eyes locked with her own, she nods and elaborates in a low tone

"Yes. I adopted my son."

She confesses, and she slowly comes to the realisation that while this is the second time she's let the blonde in on this fact, it is the _first_ time she's really come right out and said it face to face. She'd let Emma know what she'd needed to know in the letter written all those years ago, but, there had never been a whole lot of _discussion_ about the matter. She'd been too uncomfortable, and Emma had been too hurt back then. It feels strange knowing that they're going to have to face the facts all over again before too long.

And this time, they're going to have to _deal_ with them.

"Oh."

The blonde shrugs, and by now her uneasiness is practically tangible. Still, the Mayor gives her some silent credit when she reciprocates quietly in this curious little game of tit for tat.

"You know, I was adopted for a little while. But then the couple that took me on had their own kid and they didn't want-... -It just didn't work out... It's a choice you have to _stick_ to."

She warns shyly, and Regina nods- though she doesn't miss the way that Emma had worded it 'taken on' rather than 'taken in'. She's still not entirely sure which she'd done herself in the case of hauling the blonde with her to Storybrooke what feels like lifetime ago.

"No, I know that."

"I didn't mean to sound rude..."

"I know that too. At least in _this_ case."

She smiles, and Emma lightens up considerably and flashes her a devilish smirk that stirs up several favourable memories for the brunette.

"So, do you want to get down to it at my place?"

The blonde asks, and Regina blinks as her mind takes her a couple _more_ places.

"...Excuse me?"

"Do you want to go get started on your Alice hunt? I _still_ don't really know _how_ you want to go about this as you seem determined to keep her a mystery, but most of my normal, less _cryptic_ jobs start behind the computer, so I guess that's the first point of call."

"Oh. Well. I suppose that's _a_ starting point yes, but, I had actually imagined you might come with me..."

"Come with you?"

"Well. I may not have the kind of information you can type into the internet-"

"-I'm not saying I'm going to type her name into _Google_ , Regina. I do actually _work_ for a living-"

"-And look so very _darling_ doing it."

The brunette taunts before she can help herself. Emma shoots her an icy glower in return, before responding boldly

"I'm flattered you think so..."

She smirks, waiting for a cutting response. Instead, she only receives a serene shrug of slim shoulders, which sends her humour backfiring a little as she's not quite sure _what_ to do with the fact that this strange, distractingly alluring woman may or may not find her attractive.

"...I was going to try a few of the less well _known_ tricks to get information."

She mutters as she leads them on through the park with her hands forming awkward fists in her pockets.

"And I'm sure that is usually a good way to get what you want, dear. I'm simply asking you to humour me. The things you need to know that will help you do what I'm asking of you aren't the sorts of things you're going to find on your computer. I want you to come with me and trust that I know what I'm doing... If only to earn your wage, if it helps you to see it that way."

"Come with you _where_?"

"Storybrooke."

" _Maine_? You want me to come see your town? Look, Regina, I'm sure it's _nice_ and all, but I _really_ don't see how-"

"-But maybe you _will_."

"Huh?"

"Maybe you'll _start_ to see. Does it hurt to go along with it either way?"

"Well, no, I just-"

"-Look... I made a promise a long time ago, Miss Swan. I can only _keep_ that promise if you help me... I have made far more threats than promises over the years, so it matters to me an awful lot that I am able to keep _this_ one. The girl I'm looking for- that _you're_ looking for- she meant a great deal to me. I owe a lot to her, although I'm not sure she ever really grasped that. I also have a lot to make up for, and I'm ready to do that now. Or at least _try_ to. I am perfectly aware that the way I have brought this to you must seem strange. I'm sure a lot of what I've told you so far doesn't make much sense at _all_! I need you to be able to look _past_ that and _trust_ me. Or at the very least give me the benefit of the doubt... Your trusting me is going to be what will tip the scales on all this, so you may as well start getting in some practice. Things are only going to get _stranger_ from here on out, dear, I will be perfectly honest with you. But, a little trust, and a little _belief,_ they never hurt anyone."

She finishes earnestly, and Emma bites at the tip of her tongue pensively as her brow furrows.

"All due respect, Regina, but trust is one of the _easiest_ ways to get yourself hurt."

"...I have no intention of hurting you, Miss Swan."

The Mayor confides quietly, and the blonde shoots her a wary glance as she feels increasingly more uncomfortable.

"Well, you _would_ say that-"

"-So tell me I'm lying."

Regina challenges, and Emma's frown deepens, but she continues slowly

"I don't think you're _lying_ exactly... But I'll admit I'm pretty confused!"

"Ah. That- at least- makes two of us."

The Mayor smiles indulgently, and the blonde looks swiftly away as she clears her throat.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine. I'll come with you to your little town or whatever. Like you said, I have nothing to lose."

 _Apart from my sanity it seems, as I'll privately admit I think I'm confused in more ways than_ one _right now, Your Mayorness._

"Thank you."

The brunette smiles, and Emma answers back teasingly before her better judgement can stop her

"But I'm not going to keep sleeping on the couch, so you best have a bed for me. Don't worry, I don't snore."

She catches her cheeks flaring red as soon as the words leave her lips, but supposes she'll just have to back them up with grin now that they're out there. The brunette offers her a long, unreadable look in response, and Emma can feel her smile faltering slowly.

"...Are you going to _keep_ doing that?"

Regina asks eventually, and the younger woman tries her best to play dumb, although she knows it's a doomed venture from the start.

"Doing what?"

She enquires with a false tone of innocence.

"You _know_ what I mean."

The Mayor replies sternly, and Emma shrugs uncomfortably and assumes a peculiarly intense new interest in a lamppost in the distance.

"Well, Miss Swan?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you going to keep up with this little game? Or can we be _adults_ about the matter?"

"...I'm not sure what you mean..."

"I see."

Regina sighs, watching the way Emma casts her attention anywhere but in her direction with a slow smirk.

"Well. Suit yourself. But if you want _my_ opinion, I'd remind you that you're a grown woman. If you like what you see, just say so."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hopefully the first of a couple this weekend. Reviews would really be appreciated :)

_"If you like what you see, just say so."_

"I... That's... I..."

Emma stutters, and Regina is content to note that the blonde sounds just as taken aback as she had been herself when the younger woman had _insisted_ on making distracting comments when they'd first become aquatinted. Still, at the time, she genuinely hadn't given anything untoward any consideration, and had simply put it down to the blonde seeming to thrive off lowering the general tone. Now though, she has pretty much made up her mind at this stage that Emma has reciprocated the approving glances she's been unable to hide- or at the very least appreciated them!- and would guess that the deep blush colouring ordinarily pale cheeks says what the blonde's words do not.

"Merely an observation, dear."

She shrugs with a sweeping gesture of her hand to show that she herself isn't suffering in the slightest due to their strange situation, and she takes the lead in their slow stroll back to Emma's apartment with a smile spreading maliciously across her lips as the younger woman simply stands, dumbfounded, watching her go.

Pulling herself together, Emma trots after the brunette and falls back into step on her left, eyeing her curiously.

"...Are you... I mean... Do you..."

"Yes?"

"Never mind."

She sighs after a couple more failed attempts to form words out of the thoughts whizzing through her mind. She would _really_ like to ask just what in the hell Regina _means_ by suggesting she be open about her thoughts on this curious matter. She'd _also_ like to suggest that the Mayor play by her own rules- not having forgotten the way pretty, dark eyes had dropped distractedly now and then when they'd chatted the night before. Ordinarily she would do just that, as she's not exactly the shy and retiring type, nor altogether that fussed about the social prerequisites for decency amongst new acquaintances.

Regina is strange, though.

Regina's _effect_ on her is strange.

And, most worrisome and unusual of all, is that she kind of _likes_ it.

Deciding to wait until she trusts herself to refrain from sounding foolish, Emma opts for a different track; supposing she can ask one of the things she now would quite like to know- if only to sate her curiosity- without having to become personally involved.

Without having to make herself vulnerable.

"So, you really liked this Alice girl, huh?"

"Oh, she could irritate me far more skilfully than most, but yes, I liked her a lot. Curious as she was."

Regina smiles as she can't help but find herself amused at Emma's sudden change of topic. She's fairly sure the question is a baited one, and that what the blonde _wants_ to ask has more to do with her liking for what was in her fabricated friend's pants than in her general demeanour. She's not about to make it easy on the girl, though; not when it's this much fun. Nor, when she also has a feeling that Emma is no more black and white about the matter they skate around than she is herself.

If the blonde wants to know if her- seemingly surprising- uncomplicated base attraction is something that would be accepted, she's going to have to work a little harder for the answer.

In doing so, she might just figure a few things out for herself.

This thought causes the Mayor's teeth to flash as she can't help but feel perversely hopeful, and, when Emma asks her what's got her so amused, she simply shakes her head and meets wide eyes with glittering fire in her own.

"Never mind. So, I suggest our plan of action should be going back to your apartment so that you can pack up your things, and then set off. Unless you have any objections?"

"Well..."

Emma hesitates, fingering the phone in her pocket as she thinks about the openly irritable text she's left unanswered from Ellen Major, and the attractive mixologist from the slightly pretentious bar a block down that had suggested meeting up on Tuesday to show her how to make a 'proper' white russian (which she is fairly sure they'd both been aware wasn't really what they were apt to end up doing).

_Oh well, it's a prissy drink, anyway._

Yes, she supposes so, and though her sanity screams at her to just _behave_ for once, the part of her that deals with functions further south currently has a lot of time for Madame Mayor of Wherever It Was- with her tailored pants and silken tongue- and is happy to call an eternal rain check on her plans.

"You have _other_ things to be doing?"

Regina prompts irritably, though she tries to remind herself that reacting this way isn't all that fair. Just because _she's_ spent the excruciating time she has planning this meeting and the subsequent trip, doesn't mean that Emma does't have a life of her own these days. This thought causes her more anguish than she knows it should, and the blonde's eventual answer gives their previous flirtatious bickering a bitter taste.

"Not anything I can't sort out, I guess. Well, work, but I never really liked working for that uppity bitch anyway. Other than that there's just this guy I was supposed to be seeing. But I'm sure he can wait."

She shrugs, and the Mayor offers her a smile that is only teeth. Not wishing to discuss anything to do with whatever 'guy' Emma might have made plans with, Regina hones in on a subject she can approach without feeling as though an invisible hand squeezes ruthlessly around her heart.

"Well, if you're as good as you say, surely they'll take you back?"

"Maybe... But I'd not mind too much either way to be honest."

"Well then."

"And anyway, with the way _this_ is all going, I'll be making a small _fortune_ off of yourself."

Emma smirks, and Regina rolls her eyes while keeping the fact that she has no intention of paying the girl _anything_ to herself. Of course, there might be the odd expense here and there to keep the blonde sweet, but, having spent the last ten years missing her company, this is something she's more than happy to pay. After Emma finds out the _truth,_ however... Well. She has forbidden herself from getting too ahead of things, but she doubts that _whatever_ happens will conclude in the younger woman invoicing her for her time.

"Your reward depends on how well you perform."

She advises primly, and the blonde pulls a face as they make their way out of the park and up the bustling street to her apartment block.

"You know, I'm not the _only_ one who could be considered guilty of playing a game, Madame Mayor. What with statements like _that_."

"Oh, so _now_ you suddenly know what I was talking about?"

The brunette inquires teasingly, and Emma huffs as she offers the darker woman a bemused glance and shakes her head.

"Your question wasn't fair."

"Oh? And why not?"

"You were putting me on the spot and calling me out on something. If you're going to go and act just the same as I do, then it's not fair that I need to account for what I feel and you don't."

_The way you 'feel'? You feel something?... For me?_

"I fail to see why it's _my_ fault that you lack the ability to have an adult discussion."

"Fine. You know what? I like what I see. Happy? I mean, you _should_ be. The hair, the lipstick, the pants, the shoes that I'm still trying to figure out why in the hell you'd want to go walking around in. You put in the effort and the results are inarguably appealing. You're attractive. But then, you _knew_ that already without me having to tell you. As you asked though, then _yes_ , fine. I like it."

Emma shrugs, and she fishes around for her key as the set of her jaw speaks of one not liking their current position in the grand scheme of things. Paying this annoyance on the younger woman's behalf no concern, Regina laughs softly as she follows Emma into a nice, smart communal lobby.

"You really _are_ quite talented at avoiding the actual _question_ , dear."

"Whatever. It's _your_ turn. So, go on then. Do you like me, Regina? What's the, hmm, _adult_ answer?"

Rolling her eyes as she waits beside the younger woman for the elevator doors to spring open, the brunette smirks and offers silkily

" _Actually_ , dear, I find you to be a little aggressive and irritable for my tastes."

"But you... What the _fuck_? You just _said_!... That's not what I was even-"

"-My case in point. Now, do you think we could move this along? I'm not paying you to help you sort through whatever internal struggles you might be having."

"Oh, _that_ is just-"

"-What is it, Miss Swan?"

The brunette challenges, as she squares up to the blonde as the elevator doors close in on them.

"Well, I mean... You... It's...-"

"-Well, _when_ you happen to think of an answer, be sure to let me know."

Regina cuts her off, and she basks indulgently in Emma's glower as they start their slow ascent.


	10. Chapter 10

As the elevator continues its ascent, Emma keeps her eyes locked firmly with the Mayor's; her expression hard with warning as she silently challenges the other woman to go ahead and keep _on_ antagonising her- she'll learn to regret it. Something in her stony glare must be effective, as, while they climb higher and higher, Regina loses some of her smug elation and simply resorts to regarding her amiably.

_Good. Else I'd have had to teach you a lesson..._

The blonde seethes to herself, and she balls her hands irritably into fists when this thought only serves to make her stomach tighten with confused anticipation.

She supposes that even if Regina _does_ go on making cruel comments at her expense, she'll not actually _do_ anything about it- nothing physical, anyway- but this knowledge irks her more than it calms her. It is the way she has _always_ made a habit of dealing with matters of disagreement. Not to mention- as has been proven already- she lacks the quick and cutting way with words that the Mayor seems to have perfected to an art form. Her inability to bite back in an argument is something that has infuriated her on several occasions before this one, as she knows within herself that she possesses both the vocabulary and the wit to be able to play the game- hell, to _win_ it!- but that when the time comes for action, she finds herself tripping over the words fighting to get out, and inevitably ends up simply using her knuckles. Her failure to express herself as eloquently as she would sometimes like has usually resulted in a deep rage that is as much directed towards herself as it is her antagoniser. She has a feeling the brunette might _relish_ this fact if she were let in on it, and so does her best to reciprocate Regina's current polite interest to hide her inner anxiety.

"They didn't build this contraption with _speed_ in mind, did they?"

The Mayor sighs to break the silence, and this gets her a more genuine smile as Emma nods.

"I know, it's _painful_! I've gotten to the point where I just cut five minutes off of the end of my work out and take the stairs."

" _That's_ perhaps pushing it, dear. You live on the thirteenth floor."

Regina points out as she studies the pleasing lines of the younger woman's physique and wonders just what sort of attire Emma might _wear_ for said work outs. She is careful to keep her pokerface in place as she runs through several options _she_ would certainly approve of in her head.

"I'm aware of this. _Having_ taken the stairs and all."

"... Contrariness is really a _talent_ with you, isn't it, Miss Swan?"

The brunette shakes her head, but a small smile finds her lips and Emma shrugs and grins

"I _may_ have gone in there and pressed all the buttons and then tried to beat it upstairs once or twice."

She plays along. After all, she's _fine_ with letting Regina poke a little fun and engage her in the queer back and forth that seems to come effortlessly between the two of them. _That's_ okay. It's _strange_ to her- being able to find something to say to someone she barely knows and enjoying their company- but it's _fine_. It's actually _fun_. So long as it's not directed at how and what she might _feel_ about her new acquaintance, she's perfectly happy to play ball.

 _I don't_ know _what I feel._ What _I think. I don't know what the hell is going_ on _here... I'm both excruciatingly uncomfortable and fantastically at ease, and neither of those states are anything I'm used to._

"You pressed _all_ of the buttons?"

"A bit juvenile, I guess, but... You gotta get your fun _some_ place, right?"

"Right... I was merely pondering the fact that if you were to push _all_ the buttons, including the _emergency_ button, you'd be giving yourself quite an unfair advantage."

Regina goads, and the blonde mutters back something about not being a smart ass, but her mind isn't really working her mouth, but rather stuck someplace else entirely.

_The emergency stop button..._

_Yes, it's there. Red. Taunting. Teasing. Beckoning. Baiting._

_It's there and she'd wanted to push it._

_..._ Wants _to push it..._

 _Wait, but what's_ happening _here?_

 _The walls are flat and shiny and she can see the back of the brunette reflected a little hazily, but well enough to at least appreciate the delicious curve of her backside. Her own features are blurred however, and she guesses maybe that's because she's standing further away, but that's not really what this is all about, because the wall... Well the wall is_ silver.

 _It's some sort of steel or aluminium, or who the hell_ knows _what elevators are made out of._

 _And_ that's _not right._

 _The walls are black. Or at least, they_ should _be. They_ were _. Black, and neatly posted with polite notices about the building. She shouldn't be able to see_ either _of their reflections._

_Not against the black._

_Black._

_Wasn't she_ wearing _black?_

_This morning- didn't she pull on the jeans hanging up on the clothes horse in the kitchenette so as not to disturb the brunette sleeping in her room?_

_She's sure she did..._

_But now, she'd almost say her jeans look blue. Her top white and the jacket, well, of course she_ recognises _the splash of vivid red, but she'd not put_ on _a jacket earlier, the morning had been unseasonably warm..._

_"What... Uh...?"_

_She opens her mouth to say, but what comes out_ instead _causes her cheeks to flare with heat as she may well have been_ thinking _it ever since they got in here, but she'd never have dreamed of_ saying _it!_

_..."Always wanted to do it in an elevator."..._

_And her fingers brush against that evil red button suggestively, and oh god, she knows the Mayor is just going to chew her out over_ that _one._

_But..._

_Well, she_ also _knows what's going to come next._

_Regina's going to tell her to spare her such inappropriate suggestions. That's the way she's going to word it. And she's going to pretend to be mad at her when they both know she's not. She's-_

_"-Have you?"_

_Regina purrs, and Emma blinks as suddenly she only sees the_ two _of them in here- no confusing reflections- and the walls are black, and she knows she's dressed how she was this morning, and the hazy feeling of deja vu leaves them because this isn't how the scene-_ what scene?! _\- played out. This is how it should go, could go,_ might _go now, and she's opening her mouth and, oh shit-_

_"-Yes."_

_She states. Brazenly. The tone she had wanted to use when she'd caught the darker woman trying to catch a glimpse of her underwear the previous evening. And, she steps forwards, grinning as the brunette mimics her movements, and when wandering fingers find her hair, she reciprocates with a forceful shove; pinning the Mayor against the wall and smashing her palm against the emergency stop button. Her advance is wordlessly reciprocated as painted lips mould against her own, and she presses her hips more pointedly into the darker woman as she slips a hand up under Regina's pretty, crisp shirt to find luxurious silk. The brunette takes the opportunity to work a hot trail down her throat, before letting her own hands fall_ _down to wrestle blindly with rough denim._

_And she_ knows _this is all going nauseatingly fast. And she_ knows _there's probably cameras mounted up in the ceiling._

 _She knows this isn't like her at_ all _, and yet-_

 _-And yet it feels right! So_ right _!_

 _And who really_ gives _a fuck, as skilled fingers-_ well, that answers  that question! _\- slip where they probably shouldn't but where she's really been hoping they_ might _, and her rough ripping down of soft silk is met with a gutteral sound of approval._

_This is wrong, but it's right, and oh god, it's beginning to feel good, and-_

-"Are you coming?"

"... Huh?"

Emma chokes as the brunette's clipped tone pulls her from her thoughts.

"I asked if you might consider _joining_ me, or if you were planning to ride up and down a few more times."

Regina sighs impatiently as she stands with her finger held on the button to keep the door open while Emma gathers herself dazedly.

"Oh."

"Well?!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. Calm down. I just got lost in my thoughts is all."

The blonde grumbles as she leads them out into the hallway, feeling flushed and shaken.

"Is that _so_...?"

The Mayor muses, as she has seen the way Emma's pupils dilate the way they have done now enough times to know when the younger woman is thinking about things besides church.

"Yeah."

Emma snaps, hoping that will be the end of the matter.

"... _Yes_ , Miss Swan, not 'yeah'..."

Regina sighs in a way that is by now simply habitual.

Or rather, it _had_ been.

Back when-

"Miss Swan?... Emma?... Are you alright?!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And so the crazy journey begins! Please review! :)

"Emma?"

Regina repeats a little uncertainly, stood behind the younger woman who stands with her head bowed and a shaking hand fisted against the wall as if for support.

"Are you-"

"-I'm fine."

The blonde replies gruffly, but she privately isn't so sure if this is the case. Her steamy little episode just now in the elevator had been strange enough- the mental imagery no doubt delicious despite being admittedly inappropriate- but the Mayor's last statement had hit her hard and with surprising brutality.

_"Yes, Miss Swan, not yeah."_

A simple enough correction, and one she had received enough times while suffering through school to meet it with just the right amount of bemused disinterest. It's just...

 _When_ Regina _says it..._

Well, it had just struck a funny nerve with her, that's all.

_Oh sure, that's 'all'. That explains why you feel the simultaneous urge to cry and vomit? That's why that saying 'struck to the core' has never seemed so apt? Because, honestly, Swan, let's face it- Madame Mayor let those words roll off of her- prettily pointed- tongue, and you now feel as though Mike Tyson just punched you square in the stomach. Seems a little weird, no?_

"You don't _sound_ fine."

Regina informs her waspishly, and, before the brunette can give the action a second thought, her hand has found the younger woman's waist in a way that is painfully familiar as she steers Emma bossily towards her apartment. A couple of steps shy of the door, she catches the way the blonde glances down at her hand before looking up at her uncertainly and she pulls it away regretfully in favour of neatening out the perfect lines of her shirt.

"Maybe you're suffering a little vertigo."

"What, set on by the dangerous speed of the elevator?"

Emma mocks as she fishes her keys out of her pocket and lets them in.

"Hardly."

Regina scoffs, but she does so with a smile. Closing the door behind them, she adopts a more appropriate expression as she takes in the remaining pallor to the blonde's complexion.

"You really don't look so good, dear."

She states honestly, and green eyes roll as Emma falls into the chair beside the liquor cabinet with a sigh.

"You're so kind to say so."

Rolling her own eyes with a little more finesse, Regina perches on the pristine white of the sofa and shakes her head.

"Believe it or not, I was pointing it out due to _concern_."

"Oh-"

The blonde shrugs awkwardly, sounding genuinely perplexed.

"-Well, uh, thanks, but I'm really fine... Really."

"Well, thank _goodness_ for that."

Regina replies sweetly, and the younger woman allows a small smirk as she detects a definite note of amusement in the brunette's otherwise sultry tone.

"Thank the heavens and all the little bunnies and stuff, hey?"

"Are you mocking me?"

"Of course not."

Emma grins, before opening up a little as she catches a small hint of lingering disquiet playing at the side of temptingly full lips.

"I really _am_ fine. I just... You ever hear that saying 'someone just walked over my grave'? Well, someone just did a whole _dance_ on mine... I guess that sounds weird. I'm actually not usually at all superstitious or paranoid or anything like that. But since _you_ came here, I don't know, it's just-"

"-Brought it out in you."

Regina finishes, and she watches Emma try and decide whether to nod or scowl. In the end, the blonde does neither, but simply gives a small, noncommittal shrug and glances wishfully at the militia of bottles glittering in the hazy shaft of sunlight filtering in through the window.

"I did _warn_ you things would get progressively stranger."

The Mayor muses quietly, and she meets the younger woman's gaze silently as the blonde looks back up at her without saying a word. The faint blush of Emma's previous sordid imaginings remains, and while Regina doesn't know just _what_ it was that had been going through the blonde's mind in the elevator, she's certain she'd have approved if she _had_ done. She'd recognised that delicate blossoming pink, just as she'd recognised the slightly manic sheen in the younger woman's eyes; almost black but for a sliver of cool green. Swallowing, Regina tries not to pay that pretty rouge too much mind. Tries to eliminate all thoughts of the past before they can get too tangled up with the here and now. Before they can hurt her.

Still, it's no easy feat. Sitting here now, face to face with the woman she's missed, that she'd come to rely on, that she'd loved- her friend, her opposite, her prophesised destroyer- she strives to keep her expression calmly neutral as Emma looks back at her with poorly veiled confusion. The tension between them is so thick you could cut it with a knife, and a part of her- a largely _dominant_ part of her- wants to just forgo any further games and pointless dancing around the subject and jump to the inevitable. After all, she has heard, seen and deduced enough to know that if she were now to simply push herself from the sofa and make a move on the woman watching her uncertainly from beneath thick, sooty lashes, her advances would likely be accepted with fervour.

_They would, and she'd still make that small noise in the back of her throat if I nipped at her lip; that much would be the same, and-_

No. Enough. She warns herself as she takes in a shuddering breath and meets the blonde's raised brow with a tightening of her lips.

Yes, a large part of her wants to make this strange situation into an entirely _different_ sort of reunion, but she refrains, and not just out of respect for the fact that Emma still seems a little shaken by whatever had happened in the hallway. There is another part to her being- a quieter part, but one she actually believes Emma herself had pulled out of the deep and almost impenetrable hiding the years of her terrible rage had buried it beneath- that knows she'd regret trying to speed things along.

 _Even if her top_ does _seem just a touch translucent in certain lights._

She needs it to mean something if they end up exploring each other again.

 _When_ they end up exploring each other again.

She needs it to be Emma's choice and not just her happy acceptance of a situation put upon her.

It needs to be the blonde's move.

"Well, are you ready to pack up your things?"

She asks with no hint of the thoughts tormenting her behind her facade of serenity.

"Oh, yeah, I guess so."

"Just don't pack too much. My trunk is deceptively shallow."

Regina warns, inwardly curious to see just what Emma _does_ pack. In all of the time she'd known her, the blonde had been fairly short of material keepsakes and necessities, even _after_ she'd bought her a couple of basics. Her read of the blonde's character has her making the self-indulgent presumption that the younger woman isn't really the sort to pack heavy for anything even now, but she reminds herself that it's been a good ten years- and an inconceivable array of unknown situations- since she was last in a position to really presume _anything_ about Emma.

"Uh. Ok. But that doesn't really matter."

"How so?"

"I'm not _putting_ my stuff in your trunk."

"... You're not?"

"Nope. I'm putting it in mine."

"Yours? What? Why would we be taking _your_ car?"

" _We're_ not doing anything. But, if I'm supposed to be helping you out and playing detective for some undecided amount of time, I'm going to want my own wheels. And besides, I need the option of escape!"

She jokes, and the brunette wonders privately whether this is not a vocal admission of Emma's view on most things.

"Well. It wasn't _really_ what I'd had in mind, but I suppose I can see a certain amount of sense in your suggestion."

"It wasn't a suggestion, it was a statement. My years of riding shotgun are pretty much behind me."

Emma shrugs with an air of finality, and any of the greyish cast to her complexion has long since vanished in favour of a glittering hint of mirth touching otherwise cool, almost lazy features. Nodding as she muses over this last part, Regina gives a wave of her hand to suggest she doesn't hold much interest in what the blonde decides to do so long as she does it without much further delay.

"Fine."

"Just give me the zip and I'll key it into my phone. The GPS on there is pretty good."

"... Oh. I..."

Frowning as she watches Emma disappear into her bedroom- shortly to be followed by the sound of opening drawers and rustling fabric- Regina feels her guard come up just a little as this is a hurdle she'd not foreseen.

_What are you going to do?_

A small voice panics quietly in her head, and she is unsurprised to recognise that nervous treble from her childhood. There had been a time- oh, let's say ten years ago- when she'd all but stamped that voice out, but ever since meeting Emma and reevaluating some of her past decisions, her former self- her better self- has spoken up ever more often in situations where once she might have simply lost her temper.

 _You can't give her a 'zip' or coordinates or_ anything _like that. They don't_ exist _!_

No. Okay. So that's one small complication she'd not imagined she'd need to face.

Still, she should have _counted_ on Emma to be difficult.

"I'm afraid GPS systems have a tendency to be a little _off_ in my neck of the woods, Miss Swan. And I use that term of phrase literally. Unless you wish to find yourself directed into some ghastly mire or wrapped around the trunk of a tree, I would suggest we do things the old fashioned way and travel in convoy-"

She calls as she pushes herself to her feet and stalks towards the blonde's bedroom.

And, because she can't help herself;

"- _As_ you have decided to be stubborn and complicate things."

"Just finding my talents where they lie-"

Emma calls back cheerfully

"-And, anyway... This way I get to pick the music."

She grins as she re-emerges with a large knapsack slung over one shoulder.

"... On second thought; perhaps keeping to ourselves is a good idea after all."

Regina smirks, and she waits by the door with her arms crossed impatiently as the blonde does a quick tour of her apartment to snatch up anything she feels she might need. Finally, once she's packed up her laptop, several books and what the brunette is a little taken aback to recognise as a small pistol case, she pads over to the door to pull on her jacket.

"Oh..."

Regina chokes, the air leaving her lungs in a painful gasp as she suddenly finds herself sympathising with the younger woman's recent psychological punch to the gut.

"What?"

Emma frowns, regarding the brunette quizzically as she pulls the long sheaf of her ponytail free from the trap of her jacket.

"Nothing."

The Mayor shakes her head, gathering herself together swiftly.

"That is just an obscenely hideous jacket."

She scoffs dazedly, and Emma spoils her with a choice selection of objects and what she can do with them as she locks them both outside her apartment and turns for the elevator in a swish of red leather.


	12. Chapter 12

Glancing up into her rearview mirror, Regina studies the blonde thoughtfully before swiftly averting her eyes back down to the road when Emma seems to suddenly catch her in the act.

"Don't be foolish."

She reprimands herself, and she counts to ten before chancing another look up into distracting glass to spy the younger woman fiddling with something below the dashboard. She would guess, from the angle, that Emma's messing around with the bug's radio, although she can't really see any reason why she _would_ be. It hadn't worked all those years ago, and putting a new sound system into a scrap heap like the wheezing yellow monstrosity idling behind her seems like an entirely foolish endeavour.

"That hardly excludes Miss Swan from giving it a go."

She murmurs, and she smirks to herself as her own radio hums quietly with the low waves of Bach's symphony No 6. Her humour doesn't quite beat away the initial shock she'd suffered out in the small, compact car park behind the blonde's apartment however, as driving in front of Emma's sunny piece of junk feels a little like outrunning a ghost. It had given her stomach a funny turn to watch the girl shrug on the red leather she remembers so well and despises, but walking down the concrete aisle with the blonde only to find herself faced with the VW waiting patiently in the shadows had knocked the air clean out of her lungs.

"It's still going?"

She'd whispered back in the lot, and Emma had shot her a funny glance, before shrugging and telling her the bug was old but faithful, despite the appearance of being a little worn out.

 _It was worn out when we_ met _, dear. Now... That thing is_ geriatric. _A relic!_

_A ghost._

_An omen?_

"Oh, enough of this."

She snaps irritably, not missing the fact that she's only been in contact with the troublesome young woman for one _day,_ and already Emma has her talking to herself as though she might really be quite mad.

Glancing back up into the mirror before she can stop herself, her breath catches in her throat as cool green studies her back sharply. Swallowing as Emma offers her a slow grin, she jumps when the bug's engine revs, and almost swerves into the nearside lane when dusty yellow suddenly speeds up to overtake her in a cloud of exhaust fumes.

"What the..."

She frowns, but she accepts the chase even as her brow furrows irritably, and follows the blonde off the main road and onto a large semi-busy parking lot surrounded by chain foods.

"It's the same one as when we..."

_Of course it is._

Her mind finishes off, and she squeezes her eyes momentarily shut before pushing herself from her Benz and appropriating a relevantly vexed expression.

"Are you _trying_ to get us both killed?!"

She snaps as Emma strolls over with her jacket tied around her waist.

"Uhuh, yup, that's exactly what I'm trying to do."

The blonde nods lazily, and she leads the way over towards the old sandwich shop they'd made queer small talk in ten years ago. Following on with a dramatic sigh, Regina mutters her thanks when the younger woman holds the door for her and joins her up at the front bar to peruse the menu.

She is unsurprised to discover that the choice is just as dismal as it had been back then.

"Of course it is."

"Hmm?"

"Never mind."

She sighs, ordering the same pastry as she had the first time they'd come here while watching Emma go through the motions of ordering herself a grilled cheese and coke. She pulls her card from her purse and swats away the money the blonde holds out to her while inwardly resisting the urge to complete this headache of deja vu by ordering Emma a salad to go on the side of her entirely unnutritious choice.

_She's a grown up now. She can do as she pleases._

True, but it had never been a case of the blonde being too _young_ to look after herself, not even then. It had been a deep and strangely _immediate_ need to try and look out for her. To see to it that Emma wasn't simply surviving, but actually doing some _good_ to herself. It had been strange back then, and ultimately a little distressing given the adamancy in her mind of just how hateful the younger woman must surely be... But it had been the way things had worked between them almost from the get go.

She'd cared.

However _unlike_ her it had been back then- something which Henry still claims to be unable to comprehend- she'd cared.

Following the younger woman over to a small booth in the corner as they wait for their food, she reminds herself that she would do well to quit seeing symmetry in every small detail and jumping at shadows. After all, grilled cheese and lack of greenery aside, the blonde cuts an attractive figure in her jeans and scrap of a top, and actually appears to have a better handle on 'taking care of herself' than most in this respect. She is slim, but no longer unhealthily skinny, and though pale, her complexion is far from the ashen ivory it had been when they'd met.

_She's fine._

_She's absolutely fine._

Regina just wishes she could say the same for herself as she slips behind a dubiously tacky table and watches the blonde poke a straw into her drink and nurse it in a way she knows she really shouldn't find as distracting as she does.

"You know you could have just _said_ if you wanted to make a stop."

She grumbles, and Emma smirks around her straw before looking thoughtfully out the window.

"I didn't know I wanted to until about five minutes ago. Must just not have realised I was hungry."

"You're _always_ -"

Regina starts, but she swiftly bites back her final word- _you're always hungry!_ \- and hesitantly replaces such circumstantially inappropriate teasing with the low murmur of

"-entitled to your needs, but next time try not to run us both off the road..."

A rather casual shrug at this, and the Mayor is thankful when they are interrupted by a waitress carrying over their food as she struggles to fight the urge to lean across the table and shake the blonde roughly by the shoulders. Emma's complacent response to her- admittedly overdramatic- declaration that her actions had been reckless is entirely predictable, but this is one thing that the brunette really _had_ been counting on having changed. She tells herself earnestly not to look too deeply into things, but the blonde's flippant response combined with the pills discovered in her medicine cabinet give Regina cause for doubt as she knows first hand how talented the younger woman can be in creating masks and telling the world she's fine.

_Well she is! She clearly is!_

"Hey. Are you ok?"

Emma interrupts with a brow raised skeptically, and the brunette nods as she toys with the unhealthy pastry in front of her.

"Yes, dear."

"... You miss your Alice friend?"

Emma tries quietly. She is well aware that consolation is not her strong suit, but she is in tune enough to read a level of distress touching otherwise pretty features and feels the uncharacteristic urge to at least _attempt_ some form of sympathy. Dark eyes flash up to meet her own in answer to this innocent enquiry, and for a terrible- hell, _terrifying_!- moment she fears the Mayor might break down right here in the goddamn diner. As it is, full lips tighten with only the slightest tremble, before Regina raises her fork to her mouth and states airily

"I was mostly just feeling a terrible sorrow for my insides being tortured the way they are soon to be."

A snort at this, and Emma takes a provocative bite of her toasted cheese with clear intent to draw attention to the long strands of unhealthy yellow that span between her hands and lips.

"Ugh, you're such a child."

Regina scolds- not without a small hint of affection- and the blonde nods in agreement as she checks her phone for messages and silently congratulates herself on getting one up on the darker woman. She still isn't quite sure how she feels about this entire situation, but, one thing she _does_ know is that she's so far enjoying working for Regina a hell of a lot more than she ever liked working for Ellen. She supposes a part of that might have to do with the fact that the brunette has yet to call her an 'obnoxious little hussy', but it _really_ might have more to do with the way the Mayor's shirt remains only partially buttoned, and she has so far done absolutely nothing to dispel the curious tension between them.

"... Are you married, Regina?"

She asks curiously, supposing she'd never thought to ask, but wondering if the chaos in her head might be swiftly and easily slain. She hopes the question sounds casual and isn't too strange, but when the brunette answers with a low chuckle and mirthful shake of her head, she simply finds herself even more confused.

"Do I seem the type?"

The Mayor goads gently, remembering the way Emma had asked her this very question before, back when she'd not quite realised what was happening between the two of them.

"Well, I... I dunno. I was just asking."

The younger woman shrugs with a hint of awkwardness, and Regina shakes her head again- this time in answer to the blonde's question- and sips at her water.

"No, Miss Swan, I'm not married. Nor am I courting anyone that might wish to change that."

"Oh."

Emma smiles, and she sips at her own drink while feeling increasingly self conscious as dark eyes remain fixed on her intently.

"What about you?"

"What about me? Am I 'courting' anyone?"

The younger woman scoffs with what she hopes is enough disdain to hide the timid waver in her voice; feeling a little funny as Regina stares at her openly with an intensity that is both exciting and confusing.

"Are you?"

Regina pushes without paying Emma's childish mockery of her wording any mind. She knows a diversion tactic when she sees one.

"No."

The blonde answers eventually, and, Regina knows it's coming before Emma repeats her words from the previous evening

"Why? You interested?"

"In you?... I suppose so. I find you _very_ interesting, dear."

The brunette smirks, and she leaves a heavy silence between them as she waits to see if the blonde will take the initiative to broach the topic that grows with each passing moment.

"We should get going."

Is all Emma offers, and the Mayor nods as she pushes herself up from her seat, wondering just how long they're going to keep playing this game. Wondering just how long it will take Emma to actually come clean about what's going on in her head.

"We should."

She agrees as they stroll towards the door, and she follows the younger woman out towards their cars before stilling when the blonde turns to face her with her keys in her hand and a frown on her face.

"Hey, Regina... Is there something you're not telling me?"

"What do you mean, Miss Swan?"

"I mean... Something about this feels a strange... Doesn't it? I mean, that's not just _me_ , right? This whole thing... It's kind of hinky... Right?"

"What makes you say that?"

Regina asks as she adjusts the heavy pull of her bag; Henry's book weighing quite a lot more than her usual essentials.

"Just... I dunno. I kind of... I kind of almost feel like this all makes _sense_ you know? Like everything is going to some kind of _plan_. I kind of feel like you and I... Like you and I..."

She trails off with a frown.

"Yes... Emma?"

"... I feel like you remind me of someone. Someone I once knew."

"Well, then-"

"-But I've never _met_ anyone that reminds me of you. That's the thing. Shit... This is all making me sound kind of crazy..."

"Kind of."

Regina agrees.

"Do you know what I mean, though?"

The blonde appeals earnestly.

"... I think, Miss Swan, that I know exactly what you mean."

The Mayor states quietly, before turning for her car and speaking softly over her shoulder

"I'm not up to anything 'hinky' though, dear, I promise you. I'm not on a mission to catch you out or trip you up. I really _do_ want your help."

 _And I want to help_ you. _.._

"Yeah. Ok. I guess this all just happened kind of quick and I'm trying to catch up."

Emma muses, and the Mayor favours a tight smile as she murmurs beneath her breath

"Oh, my dear, if you only knew how well I understood _that_ predicament..."

She sighs.

"We should be there in about an hour."

Is what she offers aloud, and the younger woman nods as she opens the door to the bug before pausing one last time

"And then what? You never _did_ tell me where I'm staying or what I'm doing or-"

"-Don't worry. It will all become clear. As for where you're staying... We'll get Granny to set you up a room."

"Granny? Your-"

"-No relation to me, Miss Swan."

"So who-"

"-You'll see."


	13. Chapter 13

"Woah, this place really _is_ in the middle of nowhere..."

Emma exclaims as she slips out of her car in the dusk darkened street outside a quaint little building with neatly stacked patio furniture leant against one wall.

"It's a pleasing drive."

Regina nods as she locks up her Benz and stands with her arms crossed against the slight chill in the evening air. She watches Emma closely as the blonde looks around with open intrigue, trying to gage any falter in her amiable expression, but so far relaxing just a little when the younger woman simply seems mildly impressed. There is nothing in the easy cock of the blonde's hips or the agreeable pull to her lips that suggests she recognises where she is, even when she glances over the street towards Archie and Pongo as they make their way towards the park.

"Oh hey, cool dog."

She offers pleasantly, and the Mayor looks over at Pongo with a small smile as she supposes this is as good a sign as any that Emma finds nothing out of the ordinary here, as she is _fairly_ sure the cheeky dalmatian in question chasing Caskett around the Diner would be memorable to say the least.

"I suppose so."

Regina nods, and she catches the blonde looking back over her shoulder towards the road with a frown.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah. I just... Never knew this place was out here is all."

"Why _would_ you?"

The brunette asks, before biting her tongue when she imagines she knows after all. She recalls the way Emma had explained to her that she'd tried finding answers about her past in the small truck stop of a town they'd whizzed through on the way here, and supposes that with it being the nearest place on the map to the empty grid squares housing Storybrooke, the younger woman might be wondering how she'd missed such a comparatively sizeable town.

"I came this way about a year ago and stopped right on the edge of the woods. Kittery, you know? I'd been looking for some information, and I'm surprised no one sent me your way."

"Oh."

Regina offers after a moment's pause. She has several other things she would like to say on the matter, but none of them seem safe to discuss under the guise of knowing nothing about Emma's background.

 _She came this way a year ago, though? She's_ still _coming out this way?_

The idea troubles her, as does the realisation that the blonde had been so close. So painfully close.

"So, is this the place?"

Emma breaks the slightly awkward silence, and she nods over to the old sign above Granny's, permanently flickering with the light of the 'rooms available' neon.

"Yes, this is the place."

The Mayor agrees, and she remembers the way Emma had been so reserved and so nervous the first time she'd come here. A lot of that awkwardness seems to have been replaced by a quiet breed of self assurance, and this pleases her greatly.

"Shall we?"

She suggests, and the blonde shrugs and holds out her hand in a gesture that Regina should lead the way. Following her up the steps to the door, Emma finds her eyes roaming expert tailoring casually, before the situation overshadows the scenery.

"So, uh, what's the plan here? I mean, I'm totally down for a quiet evening tonight and everything, and I'm guessing this place does room service or can at least knock me up a couple of sandwiches, but tomorrow, what are we-"

"-We will sort that out when necessary."

Regina interrupts, but she looks over her shoulder and offers kindly

"You're not the _only_ one still in the dark here, dear. I'd not been certain you would find my request to help me to be agreeable, and so erred on the side of caution as far as plans were concerned. I don't see anything amiss with this, though, and imagine _you_ don't either. If I am employing you for your time, I would be so bold as to say you are in no desperate rush to be done with things? I would feel better about things if we were to simply play them by ear. I am an agreeable host, I assure you, but I would suggest that we discuss business over breakfast tomorrow. As it is, it's been a long drive, and I'm rather tired. My son will be wanting to see me before his bedtime I should expect also."

She smiles, and it occurs to her suddenly how true this is. She has wondered a lot over the last few years how her relationship with Henry might have soured were it not for the fact that she'd eventually decided to let him in on her secrets.

Were it not for the fact she'd met Emma and realised things could be good without having to be forced. Without the lies and without the hate. Some things are there to be enjoyed, and she has done her best to do so, at least with her son.

_The way things were going... It could have all been rather different..._

She muses, and she shudders as she pulls open the door to be greeted with the light tinkling of a bell and the sultry click of a pair of heels.

She supposes it shouldn't _surprise_ her that it is Ruby who slips behind the counter in response to their entry. She is beginning to get the feeling that her earlier sense of deja vu is just the beginning of something much deeper. Something Gold might be able to tell her a thing or two about...

Another shudder at this, and when she addresses Ruby she does so harshly in response to her sudden discomfort.

"Are you going to be able to help me, or would it be best you go and fetch your grandmother?"

She snaps, and both Emma and Ruby look at her in surprise. Ruby's abates relatively swiftly- she has known the often formidable Mayor for what feels like forever after all- and she tosses back long, thick hair and places her hand on her hip.

"Depends what you want, Mayor Mills. But I know most of how this place runs."

There is a slight note of defence in her tone despite her attempt to appear bored with the matter- with the Diner in general, Regina muses- but she stands her ground much as she often does.

"I need a room."

The Mayor explains, and the waitress's irritable expression falters for one of genuine surprise, and she looks past Regina as she notices the woman stood patiently behind her for the first time.

"Hey."

She smiles, and Emma reciprocates, feeling a little uncomfortable when the pretty girl behind the counter continues to study her raptly as though she were some sort of zoo exhibit.

"Hi."

She nods, and Ruby swallows as she understands she might be being a little rude with her avid staring.

_Still, when was the last time we had a guest?!_

Exactly! And, although she knows it's impossible, there is something strangely, well, _familiar_ about the attractive blonde stood in Regina's shadow, even though she knows full well she's never seen the woman before in her life.

 _She likes to drink her ice-cream floats through a redvine, and she only_ pretends _to be terrible at darts so I'll keep playing._

She blinks as this eclectic information comes out of nowhere, and wonders if the wine she'd been sneaking a glass of before coming out here is still in date.

"Well, Miss Lucas? Were you planning on doing your _job_ at any point this evening?"

Regina demands; a little nervous as she calculates the pause Ruby leaves in order to drink in the blonde to be longer than normal. She opens her mouth to say something more to draw attention away from the curious silence, before the waitress seems to collect her thoughts and offers the Mayor and her guest a wolfish smile.

"Sorry, got sidetracked. You want a square view or garden, Ms...?"

"Emma. And I guess I don't much mind."

The blonde shrugs, and Regina interrupts before any further plans can be discussed.

"She will be working for me. I would appreciate it if you and your grandmother were to treat the situation accordingly. Put her up in a room you won't be needing-"

She almost laughs

"- and I will sort out any details thereafter."

"Ok. Wait, so you mean like... Umm... Well we're doing this as a _favour_? Or-"

"-That is exactly what I mean."

Regina nods. Frowning, Emma opens her mouth to interject, but Ruby gets there first as her young brow furrows uncomfortably.

"I'm not so sure Granny will agree to that, Madame Mayor."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Miss Lucas. I believe she will."

_She's done it before._

"Well... Ok. But I can't promise she won't want to talk to you about it."

"I would expect nothing less."

The Mayor sighs irritably, before turning to Emma and asking

"So. _Did_ you have a preference for the room?"

"Uh. No."

Emma answers awkwardly, offering Ruby a helpless shrug. The waitress seems to bounce back into high spirits at an almost alarming speed however, and simply grins at her and pulls a key from a large draw beneath the counter.

"Have a garden room then. Square is usually more expensive, but if you ask me, the garden rooms are nicer."

She smiles, and Emma reciprocates gladly and takes the curiously heavy key the younger woman holds out to her.

"Thanks."

"Yes, thank you, Miss Lucas."

Regina nods.

"And I know you're finishing serving food in the next half hour or so, so-"

"-Oh, it's ok."

Ruby shrugs, before turning to Emma

"I'll come get you when my shift is over if you like? I don't mind bringing you something up, but there's about a half tonne of lasagne left over from last Miner's Day and that's easier to eat at a table! If you don't mind the company that is?"

She adds a little shyly, and the blonde shakes her head- although she inwardly feels a little dazed as this is now the _second_ evening where she appears to be letting a complete stranger into her life, despite generally being one to like to keep very much to herself- and Ruby beams back at her.

"Ok, cool. Catch you later then... Emma."

She wiggles her fingers coquettishly, and slips through the door behind the till to make her way back to the Diner. Regina sighs- a little put out by just how swiftly things all seem to be falling into place- and turns to the blonde with an impatient primp of her hair.

"Well, there you go. Granny's is rather simple in terms of what it has to offer, but the food is acceptable and the rooms are well kept."

"It's nice."

Emma smiles automatically, and the Mayor nods, before taking a couple of steps towards the door.

"Well, if that's everything for tonight, I will make my way home. We can talk business tomorrow in my home office, but as I am far too tired to explain directions to you, might I suggest that you make your way down to the Diner just the other side of the door there for nine am?

"You may."

Emma smirks, still thoroughly enjoying the almost archaic ways of the darker woman.

"Good. Well, I suppose on that note, I will wish you a pleasant evening, Miss Swan."

"You too, Regina."

The blonde nods, and she follows the Mayor back outside to fetch her things from her car.

* * *

"So?!"

Henry bursts out as soon as his mother enters his room; dropping his book on the bed and wiggling out from under the sheets to sit up and regard her earnestly.

"You're still awake?"

Regina tuts with mock irritation.

"Well, duh!"

The boy exclaims, and she offers a well practiced eye roll before breaking into a grin and perching on the edge of his bed. She accepts his eager embrace with a tight squeeze of her own, before pushing his hair back affectionately with a sigh.

"I imagine you're full of questions?"

"Totally!"

"Well, I told Miss Swan, and I will tell you now, that I am unfortunately rather worn out from my little excursion. I believe _you_ might understand why a little better than she had..."

She appeals, and Henry nods slowly. He is still completely beside himself with curiosity, and unable to grasp all of the things his mother has told him about her past encounters with Emma. With the Saviour. With his birth mother. Most of his inability to completely comprehend the gravity of the situation is due to his age and he knows this. He knows- or at least, has been told and accepts- that Emma is someone for whom his mother had cared deeply. He also knows that this had been part of the reason she'd had to push her away in the end. The whole tale is really a curious and intriguing one, and he finds it a shame that it doesn't act as the end of the old book he- and Regina- have poured over many times. It would fit within those pages quite nicely.

Still, he knows that this meeting is one that his mother had both highly anticipated and dreaded for its sheer importance, and he offers the brunette a winning smile despite wanting to ask so many questions he's a little concerned he may soon burst.

"I get it."

He nods, and she smiles and kisses him on the cheek.

"Thank you, dear. Tomorrow, we will talk."

"I'll hold you to that!"

Henry grins as he crawls back beneath the covers, and she offers him a grimace of pantomime despair.

"I'm well aware."

"Night, mom."

"Goodnight, sweetheart. Oh, and tomorrow, I thought we might go to Granny's for breakfast."


	14. Chapter 14

"Did you sleep?"

Regina asks as she enters the kitchen to find Henry sat at the table in his best blue shirt. She notes he's even made an admirable attempt to tame his hair, but doesn't say anything.

"A bit. Not much. Did you?"

"Not as much as I would have liked."

She replies honestly, and she falls into the seat opposite him and watches as he turns the pages of the book with his usual brand of care. She is unsurprised to see that he's reading the blonde's story- what little of it there is at the very end of the book- and pulls a face when the final page falls open to reveal an illustration of herself in the manic grips of vengeance while Henry looks up at her with an apologetic smile.

"I wish you wouldn't read that thing, Henry."

"I know, mom, but it's _good_ for me to know the truth. You said so yourself."

"I did."

She nods.

"It can still hurt, though."

She sighs, and Henry shakes his head with a kind smile- _very much like his mother's!_ \- and shrugs his shoulders in a way that completes the look.

"I know you're not like that _anymore_. And besides, you look much nicer in the pictures I have in my room."

He grins, and she finally joins him as she couldn't agree more; cherishing the small selection of framed photographs from the last couple of years where each of their smiles has been genuine. There _had_ been a rough patch between them, and she rarely goes a day without giving it some thought, but nowhere near as bad as she imagines it _might_ have been. She'd grown irritable. Self consumed. Vexed at the inhabitants of the town and their mundane, metronomic lives. She'd lost her temper more and more often as she'd thought about the young girl that had once worked alongside her less and less. Henry had known the truth about his mother of course, or at least, the fact that his birth mother and she herself were two different people, but not a lot else. When he'd started to ask at first, the topic had been too painful for her to discuss. But then, when his comments on his elusive MIA blood mother had turned from intrigue to mild resentment, and then eventually- more alarmingly- to mentions of wishing he could live with her instead, she'd realised what was happening and how her increasingly foul mood was affecting the boy, and she'd known something needed to be done before it was too late.

That was when Henry had found the book.

The goddamned fairytale book.

It had been right at the time they'd hit their rough patch. She'd noticed him reading it one day when he should have been tidying his shoes away under the stairs, and had grabbed it from him when he'd seemed spooked at her coming up behind him.

That had been bad.

It had been- and this scares her to this very day- very much like the evening she'd sent the blonde running back to Boston in a whirlwind of chaos. Because she'd _seen_... She'd grabbed the book and she'd _seen_ some of the illustrations. Her eyes had flickered to some of the words. And it had scared her. Oh, it had scared her _badly_. She'd yelled at him, throwing the book into the hallway while doing so, and he'd gone tearing up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door. She'd stared at the book for a long time; lying splayed out and hateful on the marble floor beneath the chandelier. Her own face had stared back at her accusingly, and the words forever painted on those static lips had come to her instantly.

_I will destroy your happiness, if it is the last thing I do._

And she had, hadn't she? Oh, god, she _had_!

Memories of her last agonising couple of days spent with Emma had come flooding back to her. Memories of the first time she'd really seen- really _comprehended_ \- what she'd done.

And that had been enough.

She'd gone up after Henry and knocked on the door, asking quietly if she could come in. Eventually, being eight at the time, he had let her. His eyes had been pink, and she'd felt her own prickle guiltily as she'd sat on the edge of his bed and patted the empty space beside her. Then they'd talked. It had felt like they'd talked for hours, and she imagines they probably _had._ A lot of the questions she now fears when it comes to Emma had turned out to be less complicated than she'd been anticipating when speaking to Henry. His age had been both something she'd been warily conscious of and a blessing. He'd asked her _why_. He'd not asked her how it could be possible. He'd not recoiled from her in fear of madness but rather simple fear of her documented reign of terror. This latter had hurt her deeply, but that night had been the first of many long discussions about why things had been the way they were, and over time, the truth- however complex and terrible- had fixed the young fissures in their relationship before they could become much less simply rectified cracks.

She'd told him about Snow.

About her mother.

About Daniel and the man with the lion tattoo.

And, most importantly, she'd told him everything she could about Emma.

About her friend. About the Saviour. The child friendly version of how things had been when she'd met Emma in Boston.

She'd even told him about her confused but definitely sinister intentions when she'd first gone seeking the blonde out- although this revelation had come a year or so later when he was a little older- because it had seemed important. It had been vital for her to explain the difference the girl had made in her way of thinking.

Eventually, they'd started to plan. They'd talked more and more about Emma's upcoming birthday. They'd talked about how everything might change.

"Are we going soon?"

Henry interrupts her inner musing, and she nods stiffly as she pulls a small mirror from her purse and applies her lipstick.

"Is she how you remembered her?"

The boy asks a little shyly, and she carefully corrects a minuscule imperfection before putting both her mirror and the lipstick away with a silent frown.

"Mom?"

"I suppose. It's been very difficult to keep from pushing her. It feels natural to me to fall into the ways we once had with each other, but refraining has put a slight dampener on this most curious reunion. I imagine she _is_ still just as irritating as she was all those years ago. I'm just going to have to be patient in order to find out."

She smirks, and Henry chuckles evilly before groaning when his mother gets up and switches on the coffee machine. Catching the reasoning behind his impatient agitation easily, she rolls her eyes at him as she fetches a cup from the cupboard.

"I'm in total agreement, dear. I'd much rather leave sooner than later- despite the fact that Ruby's coffee doesn't hold a candle to my own- but I fear one thing I might have _failed_ to mention about Miss Swan is the fact that being on time seems to be something she's deathly allergic to."

Sighing as he watches Regina help herself to the fresh, steaming brew, Henry grins as he fingers the pages of the book idly.

"So how come it's ok when _she_ does it?"

He challenges, and the brunette adds just a splash of cream as she confides silkily

"Oh, I never let her think that it _was_. But your mother offered so _many_ opportunities to find her infuriating that one had to pick their battles if they were to maintain any level of sanity."

"You're smiling, though."

Henry states boldly, and he can't help but smile himself. He has never asked- and Regina has never made it her business to explain this small, unimportant part to him- what the brunette had meant by telling him that she'd loved Emma. For the best part of the last couple of years, he had simply accepted the statement at face value, thinking Regina spoke of a love much like he has towards her and towards Johanna. It has only recently occurred to him that she might mean something else. This revelation had caused him to blush at first, the way adult things and ways sometimes do. But, he's starting to recognise some of the bemused irritation the brunette puts on when speaking of the time she'd spent with Emma as similar to the way he feels a simultaneous urge to roll his eyes and the desire to smile when talking to Paige at school. The idea is a strange one to him, and he has never quite dared ask his mother more on the matter out of a simple inability to figure out just what to say.

All in all, the concept is both vague to him and ultimately unimportant in the grand scheme of all the _other_ questions he has!

Turning the page back to the large illustration of the infant Saviour and the wardrobe, he swings his feet impatiently as Regina seems intent on taking forever to finish her coffee.

"What does she look like?"

He asks, and the brunette lowers her cup with a sigh, having answered this question numerous times in the past.

"You've seen the drawing."

She smiles, baiting him. Henry shakes his head wearily, but fails to hide his own grin. Yes, he's seen the drawing. It's his mother's way of deflecting the question when he begins asking too many. Originally, it had been folded neatly in the top drawer of Regina's desk, but, after a great deal of persuasion he'd convinced her to allow him to frame the blonde's long ago doodle and keep it in his room. It had troubled her visibly to do so, but she'd backed down in the end.

"The drawing has rabbit ears."

He points out, not bothering to mention that Emma's likeness of herself is also a play on the character of Alice in Wonderland and absolutely _no_ help to him at all when wishing to appease his curiosity.

"It does."

Regina nods, goading him."

"Mom!"

"Henry."

She answers back smartly, as they have had this discussion more times than she can count. Henry had been completely flummoxed when he'd first asked, at the fact that she didn't own even a single photograph of the girl, much as she had been herself when the thought had occurred to her shortly after sending Emma away. She'd swiftly come to the conclusion that lacking any more realistic imagery of the blonde than the girl's own scribbles had most likely been a good thing. It would have pained her too much to have looked at what she couldn't have.

_Not to mention, if such pictures were to get into the wrong hands back then..._

Now, she knows the ways of the town- of the curse- will have erased any trace of the blonde from Storybook's memory.

At least... This is what she believes to be the case.

Hopes to be the case.

Is _counting_ on to be the case.

"What does she look like?!"

Henry insists, and she pushes her empty cup away from her, blots her lips meticulously on a piece of tissue, and reaches for her keys.

"Why don't we go and find out?"


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** _Please Review :)_

* * *

Blinking sleep from her eyes, Emma stares up at the ceiling with a frown. It takes her only a moment to remember where she is, but for a split second her heart catches in her throat. Because, for a split second... Well, for a split second there, she'd not even remembered _when_ she is-

_That's crazy, Swan. Lack of sleep playing games with you._

Most likely, and she curses her poor choices the night before as she imagines she will likely need her wits about her to get through what she predicts to be another strange and confusing day. Not that last night had been lacking in _that_ department! She'd opened the door about an hour after settling into the small but cosy room to find the pretty young brunette from downstairs smiling at her across the threshold in a blinding display of teeth. Ruby had introduced herself a second time and asked if everything in the room was to her liking before beckoning her down a narrow flight of stairs evidently meant for staff use. She'd offered up a brief tour of the fairly expansive kitchens, which had culminated in ducking under the counter divider to take a seat at the queerly silent bar. Her previous promise of lasagne had been made a reality, and they'd chewed contently while making polite small talk perched on the bar stools.

Emma had started off tackling her- rather generous- portion with the considerable speed she has been unable to entirely unlearn since childhood. It is a habitual way of eating, but one she strives to control when in the company of others. Last night it had been a conscious choice, though. She'd simply been trying to speed things along. It had been kind of the young waitress to invite her down for dinner of course, but that didn't stop it having the potential to become awkward. And besides, she'd felt that she'd _more_ than fulfilled her quota for idle socialising and trying to remember her manners in the last couple of days.

She'd gone down to dinner with every intention of being back up in her room within the hour and finishing off her book.

Three hours and four bottles of wine shared between the two of them later, she'd still been sat down in the Diner with Ruby, laughing appreciatively at the brunette's steady steam of sunny chatter.

They'd eventually made their way over to one of the booths in order to spread themselves out a little more comfortably, and there they'd sat contemplating a pale yellow moon through spotless windows as the rest of the town slept. The ease of the conversation had surprised Emma, albeit positively. Much like her interactions with Regina the previous day, the dynamic had seemed to come naturally between the waitress and herself, allowing her no room for her usual standoffish discomfort when met with an unfamiliar situation.

It had just felt _right_.

_Almost... Almost familiar..._

In the end, it hadn't been until well into the early hours of the morning that they'd retired- a little giddily- back upstairs. Ruby had thanked her outside her room for her company and she'd reciprocated with a smile. She'd commented on the vibrant streaks painting the girl's hair- hazy in the dim light cast from the stairwell into the hallway- and Ruby had grinned and shown her that they were simply clip in accessories with an amiable lamentation of never being able to make up her mind well enough to commit to actually dying her her hair.

_Not even after ten years?_

The blonde had thought vaguely, before frowning while inwardly wondering 'not even after ten years of _what_?'. Nodding in response to Ruby's farewell fluttering of her fingers, she'd let herself into her room and shut the door. Standing with her shoulder blades resting gently against the wood, she'd looked around pensively, feeling an ominous nudge from the strange shadow of confusion that has been plaguing her for the last couple of days.

_The bathroom window doesn't open because no one remembers where the little key for it is, and the hot water from the faucet goes from tepid to scalding almost at once._

Both possibly true... But impossible for her to _know_. Save for shoving her toothbrush and a small bag of toiletries onto the windowsill, she's barely _been_ in the bathroom.

And yet, she'd known she was right... Somehow.

"You were tipsy."

She reminds herself now, and she groans as she rolls over to check the time on her phone; feeling the dull throb of cheap wine as if to prove a point.

Eight fifteen.

Debating whether to set herself an alarm and doze for another thirty minutes or use the time to attempt to make herself look vaguely presentable, she eventually crawls out of bed and heads for the bathroom; tossing the tank top and underwear she'd slept in onto the floor on her way.

* * *

"Remember, Henry..."

Regina confides quietly as she grabs the boy's shoulder just outside the Diner

"She doesn't know _anything_. All she knows at the moment is that she's here to help me find someone."

"That wasn't part of the operation."

Henry scolds for what feels like the fiftieth time, and she rubs her temple with her free hand while offering an irritable nod of her head.

"I _know_. I panicked."

She admits- yet again- before reminding the boy

"I had a lot to think about. I was nervous."

Offering his mother a solemn look, Henry tells her he knows. He has never heard her confess to being nervous about _anything_ before in his life, and this sets his own adrenaline flowing as he turns back to the door of the Diner. After all, Regina had been nervous because of everything she'd known. For him... Stories are one thing. But reality is something else. And he now faces the unknown.

He has been waiting for this moment- this opportunity- for years, but now that it's here he feels a little overwhelmed.

"I'm shy."

He blurts out suddenly, and Regina gives him a wary glance before smiling kindly

"No, you're not. You've _never_ been shy."

And Henry supposes this is true, but he can't think of another word for it. This meeting means a great deal to him and he has been reluctant to talk to the brunette about it. He remembers the arguments they'd started having a couple of years ago about his wanting to know his 'real' mother and wanting to spend time with her. The comments had been barbed- a response to Regina's increasing sourness and waspishness- but he knows it had been the truth in them that had stung. He is certain that his mother understands how he feels about all of this, despite neither of them having vocalised anything since their plans had been put in motion. He'd been too excited before now to be scared. And he'd been too aware of Regina's apprehension to consider any of his own.

"You'll be fine."

The brunette assures him gently, before giving him a small push towards the steps.

Following him up into the busy thrum of the Diner, she glances around the room briefly before spotting Emma sat in a small booth near the kitchen. The blonde sits contemplating the pages of a book- and Regina feels a pang of jealousy at the fact it's just a regular old paperback- with one knee poking up above the table.

 _It appears some things really_ don't _change._

"This way, Henry."

She murmurs, and he glances up at her and follows her curiously towards the back of the room.

"May we interrupt you?"

Regina prompts as she approaches the table, and Emma looks up and offers a smile as she folds down the corner of her page and pushes the book to the side.

"Hi."

She nods up at the Mayor, before glancing inquisitively at the young boy in her wake. Turning around to pull Henry in front of her, Regina places her hands on his shoulders as she introduces him pleasantly, despite feeling like all of the moisture has suddenly left her mouth.

"This is my son. Henry."

"Oh."

_Henry..._

The name resonates somewhere in the back of the blonde's mind, although she can't think of any reason why. The only Henry she knows is one of the accountants at the security firm she'd worked for before going rogue, and he'd certainly not required any additional thought save for handing in the odd document here and there. Realising she's sat pondering the brunette's boy as though he were some desperately complex specimen, she pulls herself together roughly and adopts a wary smile as Regina slips into the set opposite her.

"Nice to meet you, Henry."

She half lies. In all honesty, she feels inexplicably shaken. That, and she doesn't have the first _clue_ how to talk to a kid. Not sure whether the protocol for such things is to offer a hand to shake or assume some strange sense of superiority with age, she goes for neither and simply takes an awkward sip of her- really quite cold now- coffee.

"Take a seat, dear."

Regina instructs her son, swallowing uncomfortably as Henry remains stood wide eyed in front of the table, staring at the blonde as though dumbfounded.

_Well, he mostly is!_

"Hen-"

"-Hey, Henry!"

Ruby interrupts, coming up behind him with a fresh pot of coffee and an ever present grin.

"Mayor Mills."

She offers politely as an afterthought, and Regina purses her lips with agitation she doesn't truly feel as at least Ruby's sunny greeting seems to have shaken the boy from his frozen stupor and prompted him to take a seat beside her. She feels his small hand clutching blindly for her own beneath the cover of the table and catches it gently, offering a comforting squeeze of her fingers.

"Emma?"

The waitress grins, holding up the coffee pot questioningly, and the blonde nods, tipping back the remaining dregs of her last cup with a grimace to allow room for it fresh. Ruby giggles, and Regina feels some authentic agitation creep behind her carefully honed mask.

_Well, you two haven't wasted any time, have you?_

The thought is immediate, and she feels instantly guilty that the waitress's apparently helpless affection for the blonde vexes her the way it does.

_It's just not fair..._

No. It hurts that she's missed the younger woman so painfully, and yet she's having to watch herself with every step she takes in this delicate situation. Ruby doesn't suffer the same dilemma; she can simply enjoy herself, and it hurts that she and Emma display almost the exact same dynamic in their cheeky glances as they once had, while she herself is still considered little more than a stranger. She knows Emma well enough to detect the slight hint of wariness in her otherwise calm demeanour, and knows the blonde has yet to decide whether she trusts her or not. It hurts-

 _-Well it's your own_ fault _, dearest._ You _are the one that caused this. And you are the one that sent her away. It is simply your price to pay._

Emma smiles at her a little shyly over the rim of her coffee cup as silence engulfs them, and she decides that in the grand scheme of things it's not as terrible a punishment as she perhaps _deserves_.

"Are we getting breakfast?"

The blonde asks hopefully, having waited to order until now as she'd been unsure what the Mayor had been planning.

"I should think so."

The brunette nods, turning to Henry and smiling indulgently.

"What do you feel like?"

The boy doesn't answer right away as he remains staring at the table with frequent glances up at the blonde when he imagines she's not looking.

"Henry?"

"Uh, pancakes."

Henry answers with a swift aversion of his eyes when Emma shoots him a glance.

"Well, alright, if you get some fruit on the side. Miss Swan?"

"Oh, I could _always_ go for pancakes."

Emma grins, and Henry looks up at her shyly as the blonde smirks baitedly, waiting for Regina to tell her _she_ needs to order fruit as well.

"Two days in a row?"

The Mayor asks, playing along as she adopts an admirably disdainful expression.

"Yeah, I'm gonna make it a streak."

The younger woman teases, and Henry watches on- intrigued- as either woman hides their obvious grin with a carefully honed poker face. He has never seen his mother interact with someone the way she does with... Well... his mother... Emma. It surprises him, as the blonde herself acts in a way he has seldom seen an adult behave- apart from maybe Ruby, who Regina has never been particularly fond of- as she sits with one foot clearly on the seat, slouched between the booth and the wall, with her elbow resting on the table and still clad in her jacket. These are all things he has been told- adamantly- that grown ups should not- _do_ not- do.

"Well, if by the end of the week you find yourself unwell, I do hope you'll realise you have only one person to blame."

Regina sniffs bossily.

"I, myself, will refrain from such self abuse and have a breakfast muffin."

_Now there's a surprise!_

_Wait..._

_What?_

Emma blinks as the brunette turns to her son and shoos him gently from the table.

"Why not go and tell Miss Lucas what we'd like; she's clearly much too busy mooning over the Sheriff to do her job."

Regina fusses, in actual fact simply giving Henry an excuse to leave the table to gather himself. He shoots her a grateful glance and pushes himself up to find Ruby.

"Cute kid."

Emma comments politely, and Regina offers her a strange look before agreeing quietly.

"Yes."

She meets Emma's casual questioning look with a cool glance of her own, inwardly wondering just how in the hell she's going to deal with this situation, not to mention _when_. Their breakfast has so far gone better than she'd ever anticipated- after all, there has been no hell fire, no furious screaming or unfortunate heart attacks- but she is crucially aware of the fact that she already treads a thin line when it comes to Emma. The blonde doesn't know it, but she herself is all too aware. She has done things she regrets, but she has also tried to fix them in ways that were perhaps not entirely healthy. It had been _necessary_ to do so, but she still feels an immense amount of guilt for taking away the blonde's memories; the act undeniably intrusive. That, and they have already suffered _one_ emotional explanation about who Henry is, and she has no intention of letting things get so far out of hand again _this_ time. She has always been one to wish to hold all of the cards, but in this instance, the accompanying shroud of responsibility is almost unbearably heavy.

"I thought it important that you two meet."

She states quietly.

"Oh. Ok. Because of Alice?"

"Just because."

Regina answers eventually. Emma shrugs noncommittally and pushes forward with what _she_ perceives to be the main topic here.

"So after breakfast, are you going to try and help me understand things a little better? I want to help you- and your son- but I still don't know how you think I'm gonna be able to do that with only a name."

"The name is unimportant."

"Oh, well _that's_ great, as that's the _one_ piece of information you've given me!"

Emma grumbles, and Regina reaches into her bag and pulls out a small, carefully folded piece of paper removed earlier from her son's room.

"Names are strange things, Miss Swan. Especially in _this_ town. They have a habit of not being what they seem."

"You what, now?"

"They have a habit of leading you down the rabbit hole."

"...Is there something I should know about in that cappuccino?"

"Here."

Regina sighs, ignoring the blonde's irritable response. She slides across the paper and clenches her teeth apprehensively.

"She called herself Alice, but it was her choice not her name. I trust you understand the joke there?"

She asks as Emma unfolds the scrap of paper and studies the small doodle of a girl in a puffy dress with chaotic curls pierced by a pair of rabbit ears climbing through a window to escape a pretty, stylish brunette. There is some messy scrawl at the bottom of the page and the blonde reads it three times while not taking in a single word. She simply stares.

Finally she looks back up at the Mayor, the colour completely drained from her face.

"What the hell is this?"


	16. Chapter 16

_"What the hell is this?"_

Emma whispers, and Regina purses her lips anxiously as she catches a definite waver in the younger woman's voice, her complexion ghost pale and her eyes wide.

"...Are you alright?"

She asks eventually; the answer quite obvious, but she has no clue what _else_ to say. She is playing things by ear here, and it is not something she excels at. Spontaneity and recklessness had always been _Emma's_ thing... And Regina knows full well this could work either for or against her right now.

"Miss Swan?"

She prompts as the blonde remains frozen with her gaze locked on the small scrap of paper still in her hand.

"Are you-"

"-I'm fine."

Emma replies slowly, although she neither looks nor sounds like this is the case. Opening her mouth to try and add something more- not entirely sure what, but something, _anything_ to break the awful tension shrouding the table- Regina lets out a disagreeing hiss when the younger women knocks her ankle with the toe of her boot in a clumsy bid to slide out from the booth.

"Emma..."

She tries, and she is all too aware of the pleading note in her tone. It brings back memories she strives and fails to push aside, and when the blonde tells her she needs to go and get some air, she nods reluctantly without really listening. Watching the door swing shut in the younger woman's wake, the Mayor lowers her head in an uncharacteristic bow of defeat and pulls the accusatory scrap of paper back towards her. She knows that her usual reaction to things not going her way might have her ripping up the infantile little doodle from years ago in anger, but instead she folds it carefully back along the original lines and slips it into her diary for safe keeping. Looking up as Henry comes back over with a questioning glance at the blonde's recently vacated seat, she displays her palms in an unsure gesture and takes a glum sip of her coffee.

"What happened?"

The boy asks as he slides back in beside her, and she shakes her head as she fingers one of the vibrant yellow sugar sachets mournfully.

"I took a chance. Apparently not a very good one."

"What did you do?"

"I couldn't answer her when she wanted to know more about Alice. I couldn't figure out where to draw the line... Each false word was just another shovel of dirt from the hole, and the deeper that hole gets the harder it is to climb out of. I learnt that the first time."

"You mean before you told her about... Me?"

"Yes. That, and so many other things. I don't _want_ to lie to her, I really don't. But the truth is something I'm going to have to build up to in this case... The _truth_ requires trust."

"She'll trust you, mom."

"You sound so sure..."

"She already _does_! She just doesn't _remember_ that..."

Henry exclaims, and Regina glances at him mournfully as she recalls just how unwavering Emma's trust had once been.

"I suppose that's true... I showed her the picture."

"The Alice picture?"

"Yes."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing... That's what concerns me."

The brunette sighs. She knows that the illustration had affected Emma in _some_ way, but she has no idea _how_. She'd seen the litter of notes and scribbles cluttering the blonde's desk in her bedroom back in Boston, and while the writing had been ever so slightly less slanted and simplified, the similarity of those scraps and scrawls to the folded relic now in her purse is uncanny. Made all the more peculiar by its uniqueness. She imagines Emma might have thought much the same; recognising her own hand but not the picture itself, nor any memory of making it.

_Unless... Maybe it jogged something... Maybe-_

"-Shall I just put this here?"

Ruby interrupts, placing down steaming plates with a questioning look as to where to put Emma's.

"I... Yes, I suppose so."

The Mayor agrees, though she doesn't hold out much hope that the blonde will be coming back all too soon.

 _She might. This isn't like before. She doesn't_ know _anyone here. Doesn't know anything. She's all grown up now, and to leave the table so abruptly would be considered highly rude._

Yes. But then, the fight or flight mentality had been strongly ingrained when she and the blonde had first met. Who's to say that will have changed?... Nor was the Emma she'd doted on all those years ago all that concerned about appearing rude.

_The last time she left the table in such a hurry, she climbed out of a goddamned window!_

Stabbing her knife into a small clover of butter defeatedly, she sniffs as she is all too aware that Henry sits watching her uncertainly while the blonde's pancakes steam unclaimed.

"Where do you think she's gone?"

Henry asks quietly, before sending a bolt of white panic through the brunette's heart when he whispers

"Do you think she'd _leave_?"

Taking a nervous bite of her muffin without really tasting it, Regina shakes her head slowly as she offers this hideous suggestion careful consideration.

"No. If her reaction was _that_ strong, it would imply seeing that picture had affected her deeply and stirred something tangible up in her. If that were the case, any answers she might seek are here in town. I simply think Miss Swan didn't know what to do with the _possibility_ presented to her. In a way, I suppose this is helpful in that it is telling as to where her mind might be about things of the nature she's apt to witness here... On the other hand, it proposes the unfavourable reality that convincing a twenty-eight year old woman of the existence of witches, ogres and fairy godmothers will be quite an undertaking."

The Mayor sighs, imagining the uphill climb from here is likely to be painful as well as stressful, but she takes care to offer Henry a smile nonetheless. He hasn't spoken to her much about how he feels about Emma in any other terms but helping her try and plan progressively harebrained ways to convert the Saviour. She wants to ask him what he'd made of the meagre about of time spent at the table with the blonde, but is also afraid of the answer.

"She'll come back when she's sorted through whatever she feels she needs to sort through in her head, I'm sure."

She consoles, and she believes she speaks the truth on this count. She just doesn't know what she plans to do when that time comes.

"Okay."

Henry agrees, with the same brand of amiable trust his mother had once allowed her.

"Eat your pancakes."

She chokes, and she goes back to her own breakfast before the hellish war of emotions rioting beneath the surface can break free.

"You know, mom... I think it will be ok. After all, you don't have to convince her about ogres and witches and stuff. Not really. That's just kind of _extra_ stuff, you know? You didn't bring her here to try and explain the whole book. Just the part about how she got here and why you did it."

"I threatened her family and brought them to another world. Her mother was vying for my throne and ended up putting her infant child into a _wardrobe_ which transported her into the middle of the woods in another dimension... I think, dearest, that's quite a truth to contend with."

"So don't start with that."

Henry proposes shyly.

"Well, no, I have better instincts than to bring such things up over coffee."

"I meant, start with _you_."

"Me?"

"Start with trying to explain who _you_ are. Start with trying to explain what happened that ended up in you coming to find her this time. Not the curse part, the other part... The part about how you _feel_ about her."

"She would think I'm crazy."

"Maybe. But maybe not. Stories are one thing, but if you truly _love_ someone... That always wins out in the book."

"The book is about the _past_ , Henry. And my own stories never ended happily."

"Maybe that's because your happy ending is only happening _now_. She might not believe you about all of the rest of the stuff you want to tell her. But if you let her see how you _feel_... Maybe she'll give you more of a chance. I mean, _I_ believed you, didn't I?"

"You had the book... I confirmed what you were already starting to think-"

"-Yes, and I _believed_ you. Not about the stories, I believed those anyway, but about the fact that you were _sorry_. And I believed _your_ version of them. Because I love you, and you love me. Even if she doesn't understand any of the rest of it, if you love her... Maybe she'll feel that somehow."

Henry shrugs, and Regina takes a hasty sip of her coffee; tasting salt. She pats his leg gratefully beneath the table and nods when he asks if he may be excused to go and pick up the new action figure he's been waiting for from the small stand at the pharmacy.

"Just be home before lunch. Johanna said she would be making chowder, and I know she'd like it if we were around to try some before she leaves."

"I will."

He agrees, and he pushes himself out from the booth and places a hand gently on the brunette's shoulder.

"Are you going to be alright, mom?"

"Of course."

She consoles, not at all sure if she speaks the truth.

* * *

Kicking at the sporadic tufts of grass that fight through the dry dirt surrounding the castle, Henry turns his face to the side to combat the strong winds that roll in from the shore. He gazes out over angry, grey waves and watches as a couple of gulls squabble up above and take turns to dive suicidally towards the sand. It is only when he stands in the shelter cast by the old wooden play castle that he realises he's not alone.

"You."

He exclaims in surprise, and the blonde offers him an awkward shrug and pulls her jacket around herself more tightly as the wind plays havoc with her hair.

"... Hey, kid."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hope you enjoy. This one was a slightly awkward one to write, but hopefully it reads well. Reviews would be lovely :)

_"Hey, Kid."_

Emma offers awkwardly as she brushes her hair back away from her face. The Mayor's boy regards her with a peculiar expression that she can't quite place, and she strives to find something else to say to relieve the strange tension between them.

"How come you left?"

Henry asks- already knowing the answer, but aware that he has the upper hand here in the fact Emma has no clue who he is and what he knows. A part of him feels a little sneaky about this, and he knows that if it were any other situation, his mother would have a couple of stern words for him to mind himself. This in itself is pretty funny, really. When things were beginning to mend between the two of them, there had still been the occasional- completely expected- argument now and then, and he had asked her once, a little cheekily, if she might not be being a little unfair calling him out on playing by his own rules now and then.

Her reply had been blunt and simple; yes, it was unfair, and that was exactly why she was doing it.

 _"Just look where being that way got_ me, _Henry."_

He'd understood- even if he hadn't equated lying to garner a second helping of dessert quite in the same realms as banishing an entire kingdom- and had tried for the most part to play nicely. Another thing Regina had reminded him of one day- something which he had found profoundly strange to think upon- had been that being 'good' was in his blood. It had been late, and she'd been busy with a whole host of other things with documents and papers littering her desk, and he doesn't think she'd thought about her response to his initial question before giving it. The look of wary discomfort on her face had seconded this assumption as she'd looked up at him awkwardly, but she'd elaborated none the less.

 _"I can't speak for Charming, as all he ever was to me was a pain in the backside traipsing after Snow White. She herself however, was many things I despised at the time- one of those being hatefully_ 'good' _. The Fair Queen. It's an impressive lineage. Your mo- Emma, too. She probably_ is _truly the fairest person I've ever met. She was wonderfully good, Henry, although I suppose, rather_ sneaky _at times, also. In that respect, the family resemblance is quite strong."_

Thinking momentarily about Charming- David- now, Henry looks up at the blonde and wonders if she'll be able to help the comatose prince too. The breaking of the curse should allow for such a miracle; true love's kiss once again possible when Mary Margaret- Snow- recalls that love in the first place. It's all part of one big machine, but looking at the woman sat childishly crosslegged up in his castle- the woman hiding out here in a children's play area from the very first step of this grand adventure- he isn't sure what to think.

Waiting for Emma to answer him, he regards her earnestly; his eyes slightly slitted against the cruel wind rushing in from the shore.

"I guess I kind of freaked out."

She mumbles eventually, and she pulls a face that offers greater insight to her discomfort than her words do. Thinking the matter over for only a moment, Henry makes his way up and around the old, rickety castle to squeeze in beside the blonde on the splintered ledge. She looks slightly taken aback by this, but not perturbed, and he decides to take the reigns before the enormity of the situation can overwhelm him.

"Why?"

He probes, and Emma sighs at this most well used and ancient weapon of children everywhere as it begs a question she's not quite sure about herself.

"I'm not sure how to explain it."

She admits.

"Try?"

Henry pushes, and she glances over at him irritably before letting out a sigh and playing with a raised stitch on her jeans.

"Your mom showed me this little drawing she had with her. She said her friend, you know... Alice? Well, I _think_ it's 'Alice'. I don't know. She said her friend drew this picture years ago. I have no clue how that was supposed to help me find her, but also... I dunno. It's crazy. It just spooked me is all."

She finishes abruptly, and Henry nods as he studies the blonde who looks uneasily out into the distance. He wants to ask her what her favourite color is. Wants to ask her how she got the small scar above her eye. Wants to ask her how she likes her hot chocolate.

Instead;

"How come it spooked you. Did you recognise it?"

"What? _No_. How could I? Of course not... No... It just... I _couldn't_ have recognised it. You know? Logically, I just couldn't."

"But you did?"

"... This is gonna sound crazy..."

"Well, I'm ten. Try me."

Looking over at Henry who watches her companionably, Emma frowns as she tries to skirt around the topic.

"Does your mom know that you're here? Talking to potentially crazy women you don't know?"

This last part stings a little, but he knows that she doesn't mean any harm. He offers her a conspiring grin, not in the least bit fooled by her sudden change of topic.

"She would probably guess I'm here or in the park. So long as I'm back by lunch, she won't mind."

"Really?"

Emma asks with genuine surprise

"I wouldn't have thought she seemed the type to let you go running riot."

Pulling a face, Henry wrestles a small package from his pocket and holds it out to her as though offering evidence.

"I was buying action figures. I didn't have enough left over for a slurpee. I was gonna play with it here. My mom says I'm not allowed to go hanging around the cannery or further into the woods than the old well. I'm not doing either."

"Oh."

The blonde offers pensively- used to the bustle of the city where the few people with kids she knows keep them on a proverbial leash any time they leave the house.

"Cool Wolverine by the way."

She adds on, and Henry's eyes widen as he regards her in surprise, before mumbling shyly

"...My mom doesn't think you're crazy."

"No?"

"Well... She might, I guess. But she trusts you."

"Yeah?"

Emma asks, confused by the sincerity of the kid's gaze as he nods his affirmation.

"Yes."

"Guess I should probably go apologise, huh?"

"Maybe just explain. My mom will _tell_ you she wants an apology- it's what she does- but really, she'll just be wondering what happened."

"She's kind of a hard ass, huh?"

"She pretends she is."

Henry smiles, and Emma smirks as she can buy this and then some.

"Kid... Can I ask you something?"

"Of course"

Henry beams.

"The scrap of paper your mom had. Do you know anything about that?"

"... I know she's kept it since I was a baby. It means a lot to her."

"And _you_ can't tell me anything about this 'Alice'?."

"Not more than my mom can."

Henry shrugs uncomfortably."

"Right... Can I ask... If I told you that I thought _I_ drew that little drawing... Would you think I was crazy? I mean, I know it _is_ crazy, but... Would you think _I_ was?"

Considering the question carefully, Henry shakes his head.

"No. Not really... You know, my mom called the girl who gave her that picture something _else_ , too. She called her the Saviour. And you're probably just as sane as she is."

"The Saviour? Like... The bible Saviour?"

"No. Her own, I guess. And everyone else's through that."

"How... How do you mean?"

"Well. My mom runs this town. She's the Mayor."

"I know, but-"

"-Having someone to turn to was important to her. Made her _less_ of a 'hard ass'."

He grins.

"Finding the Saviour, it... Well it will be best for everyone, I think."

"... This is just gonna get weirder and weirder, isn't it, kid?"

Emma grumbles, glancing up at an ominous, purple thunderhead coming in with alarming speed.

"Probably."

He agrees, before continuing slyly

"You're still here, though. I think you can stick it out."

"Yeah?"

She chuckles, and she feels an odd wave of warmth when the boy nods trustfully and offers her a smile.

"I guess now would be a good time to head back, kid. Your mom might not mind you chatting to crazy people she barely knows, but if you got caught out in a storm I guess she'd not be that thrilled."

"No, that's true. I'm wearing my good jeans."

Henry conspires with such genuine seriousness that the blonde finds herself choking back on laughter that might seem rude.

"Best get inside, then."

She suggests when she trusts herself to speak, and she hops down into the dirt from the moderate height of the lip and holds a hand out to help Henry do the same. He takes it gingerly, feeling an electric tingle between her fingers and his own, and wonders if she feels anything- anything at all- in the face of his presence.

"Do you want to come with me? Johanna, our maid, is making lunch. It would give you a chance to talk to my mom."

"You have a maid?"

Emma asks, eyes wide.

Perplexed at the fact that this should be considered all that strange, Henry shrugs as he begins leading the way; deciding to simply take charge until told otherwise.

"She looked after me when I was young. Now, she mainly helps my mom out around the house. I think _mostly_ just because my mom likes having her around."

"Oh."

The blonde shrugs, understanding that perhaps what Henry _means_ is that the brunette is lonely. This surprises her as, for one with little time for small talk and relationships herself, she has actually found that she is inexplicably _drawn_ to the Mayor. She's sharp, amusing and seems intelligent, and she offers a _very_ attractive proposal to spend time with. It's hard to imagine anyone _not_ wanting to be around her. Glancing at the back of the kid's head, she scolds herself lightly as a delicate blush creeps over her cheeks, and supposes her little... Whatever it is... For the darker woman will have to die out sooner rather than later.

_Just get your shit together, she's not all that..._

Following Henry through a series of turns and crossings, she soon finds herself confronted with the impressive profile of a large, white mansion.

"Woah..."

She offers, censoring out any other words, and Henry simply nods and leads her up a series of shallow, stone steps while she repeats her little mantra

_Get it together, she's not all that. Get it together, she's not all that. Get it together, she's not-_


	18. Chapter 18

_...Get it together, she's not all that-_

"-Miss Swan."

Regina addresses her with surprise as she comes to a halt on the way to her office. Emma smiles at her awkwardly as she stands behind Henry, following his example as he bends to remove his shoes. She toes her own off childishly, and the brunette's lip twitches in response, but she doesn't say anything- simply watching as Emma scoots her boots next to Henry's with her foot.

The blonde drinks in the Mayor's svelte frame appreciatively as her little mantra dies on her lips when presented with the darker woman in the flesh.

"Hi. Is it ok if I come in?"

"Well, you seem to have _decided_ that to be the case, _asking_ seems a little moot."

The Mayor sighs as she gestures pointedly towards the younger woman's mismatched socks.

"I'm sorry I ran out on you. I just-"

"-Forgiven. And we will talk about it in a little while, if you don't mind. Right now I have a couple of calls to make and then Johanna will be serving lunch. I daresay you will be keen for some of that, as your breakfast is currently congealing away in my fridge."

"Oh. Yeah, again, I'm sorry, I just-"

"-Later... Emma."

Regina tags on with a small smile, recognising the mixture of discomfort and unruliness playing across sharp features as the blonde both welcomes someone taking the reigns on this one and simultaneously despises being told what to do.

"Henry, why don't you offer our guest a drink."

The brunette prompts as she turns back for the office, and the boy nods as he beckons the blonde towards the kitchen, still feeling strange about this whole situation but also enjoying the thought of spending a little more time with Emma regardless of the curious nature of their setting.

"Come on, it's this way."

"Um. Ok."

She nods, following Henry into a pleasantly light kitchen and shrugging when he asks her what she might like. With the chaos battling away inside her head she could quite happily knock back several shots right about now, but she smiles when he offers her some juice and says nothing on the matter. Looking around, she suffers the same sense of deja vu that has been plaguing her for the entirety of this strange trip. Several of the Mayor's cabinets are glass fronted and she can spy their contents with relative ease, but a tall cupboard to the left is panelled in a rich mahogany, and yet she _knows_ the racks inside contain spices and canned goods despite never having stepped foot in the kitchen before.

_There's tuppawear in the fridge also, maybe not the freezer so much these days now that there's two of them, but in the fridge? Sure. Salads and meat trimmings. Sometimes she'd give me a couple to take back for Caskett if they were looking to turn any time soon._

Blinking as she shoots a wary glance at the hulking fridge freezer on the other side of the room, she shakes her head when Henry asks her if something's wrong and forces a grin.

"Nah. Just daydreaming, kid."

"Oh yeah? What about?"

_Being here before, in this room, with your mother packing me up left overs to feed my cat that's been dead going on nine years now._

"Don't remember."

She shrugs noncommittally.

_She was smiling at me- your mother- but then she used to smile at me a lot._

"Liar."

Henry comments, not unkindly, and she rolls her eyes at him as she sips at her juice, striving to nip the conversation in the bud. After all, she can't very well _tell_ him what she'd been daydreaming about; he'd think her much crazier than he likely already does.

 _I told her to lie on the floor. She didn't want to- of course she didn't, not Madame Mayor,_ gosh _no- but she did it anyway. For me. And I-_

"-Henry, dear, did you still want those comic books lying on your bedroom floor? Only, they double up as quite a hazard when trying to hoover."

A cheerful voice interrupts, and Emma can feel her cheeks burning hotly as she curls her toes subconsciously- looking over at the cooker and the artillery of oils stood beside the stove tops and shivering. A stout redheaded woman comes strolling into the room with a feather duster held over her shoulder in a comical fashion, and she offers the boy a stern smirk, before stopping in surprise when she spots the blonde stood lent against the counter nursing her glass.

The duster falls from her hand as her eyes widen and it clatters loudly on the floor.

"Whoops."

The woman grumbles, sounding a little breathless, and she scoops it up swiftly with a shake of her head.

"Butter-fingers."

She confides, although the uneasy look lingering behind otherwise kind features isn't lost on Emma, who in turn smiles uncomfortably as cornflower blues regard her warily above a frozen crescent of teeth.

"Jo, this is Emma. She's a friend- kind of- of my mom's."

"Nice to meet you."

The blonde offers stiffly, and the redhead's guarded features suddenly break into a grin as any former hesitancy vanishes and she holds out her hand.

"Likewise. I'm Johanna, _also_ a 'kind of friend' of Regina's. Henry calls me Jo. Mayor Mills does _not_."

Henry snorts at this and offers pleasantly

"Mom calls Emma 'Miss Swan'."

"Does she now? Would you prefer I address you that way?"

She asks the blonde, who shakes her head vehemently and grins.

" _Hell_ no. It started off as amusing, but now I feel I might start getting delusions of grandeur. Or worse, I feel like I'm at the DMV."

"Oh."

Johanna smiles curiously, but she doesn't press the matter any further. Instead, she shuts the duster away under the sink and washes her hands with a resolute

"Emma it is then. Are you eating with us, Emma?"

"Uh, I'm not sure."

The younger woman shrugs as she shifts her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"Stay. So long as you like chowder that is."

"I do."

"Well then, there's plenty for all of you. I assume Mayor Mills knows she's hosting?"

Johanna checks quickly with a glance at Henry, and he nods slowly, his attention entirely focused on the blonde as she studies the pulp in the bottom of her glass pensively.

"I'll go and set up an extra place at the table."

The old maid smiles, and she gathers some cutlery from a drawer near the sink and shuffles out of the room in a pair of obnoxiously lilac slippers. Henry catches Emma's attention as pale lips twitch with a ghost of a smile, and he grins at her knowingly as he points to some chairs in the corner.

"She brings them with her in a little bag every morning. Mom has a no shoes in the house rule unless it's people from town. She'll have given you some points for taking your boots off, by the way-"

"-I just saw you doing it and thought-"

"- _I've_ been conditioned. Trained. Mom would never ask a guest to do it, but she'd still go around checking the floor once they left. Johanna says the marble in the hallway gives her chills and that gives her migraines. My mom says there must be something deeper at fault up in her head since she chose slippers the color she did."

"They're... Interesting."

Emma agrees, and she flashes a sly grin which Henry catalogues with a wistful sigh.

"...How come you know Wolverine?"

He asks eventually as they each take a seat at the small kitchen table and stare politely at nothing in particular.

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Well... Kids. But-"

"-You know it's not polite to make your guests feel _ancient_ , right?"

The blonde grumbles, and Henry's color drains with his appall that she might have felt he was being rude to her, before she shoots him a wicked smirk and tosses back her hair indifferently.

"I prefer DC- batman mainly- but I know most of the obvious marvel characters. X-men I quite liked. Orphans with super powers is a pretty good storyline, I guess."

"Yeah..."

Henry breathes, studying her intently.

"Though, I think that's why I like batman. More believable. None of the magic crap... Sorry- 'stuff'."

The kid nods, not paying the blonde's language much mind, although he will later sit in bed and smirk gleefully when playing the conversation back.

"You don't like magic?"

He pries cautiously, and Emma sighs as she crosses her legs up on the chair and pulls a face.

"I guess I do. I like Harry Potter and stuff. But it's more interesting- to me anyway- to back the hero that's at least _semi_ believable."

"...I guess."

"Plus, the Joker's pretty neat."

She adds, and Henry raises a brow as he studies the blonde surreptitiously out the corner of his eye. Emma's looks out of the window at the apple tree that stands in pride of place in the garden, and she fiddles with a section of her long hair distractedly. The kid swallows, wondering what it might be like to hug the woman sat so casually opposite him; to bury his face into her shoulder like he does Regina. The brunette's hair is glossy and soft to the touch and always smells lightly of the delicate jasmine shampoo she buys in the nice, fancy bottles. He wonders what shampoo the blonde uses and smiles gratefully when this obscure train of thought is interrupted by Regina stalking into the room.

"I'm done. Do you want to come through? I will fetch Johanna. Wash your hands, Henry."

She instructs, and she turns for the dining room before she can tease Emma to do the same. Taking up a seat at the large table, she bites lightly at the tip of her tongue when the blonde saunters in and takes up the seat opposite her. The seat she'd taken all those years ago when they'd discussed the changes becoming ever more apparant in their relationship and she'd told Emma she couldn't allow for those dark yet delicious feelings to flourish.

She recalls just how eloquently the younger woman had been able to change her mind, and looks down at her plate with a sigh.

Henry chatters lightly with Johanna as they eat, and Regina interrupts where she sees fit or her opinion has been asked for, but for the most part she and Emma eat in silence. The Mayor is apprehensive of the conversation she has looming. Emma wants to apologise for leaving the Diner so abruptly this morning- _and so she should_ \- but doing so will certainly lead them into more dangerous territory. She hadn't realised until today just how flawed this entire plan might actually be. She lacks any clue on how to approach any _one_ of the many subjects that are going to need to be discussed sooner or later, and she is by now greatly regretting introducing the elusive entity of 'Alice' into the mix. She _has_ no answers, only questions of her own, and as Johanna rises to clean away their things, she catches the blonde's eye as the latter looks up at her thoughtfully and she realises for the first time that she's scared.

Terrified.

Because for the first time it occurs to her that this might not all 'work out in the end'.

It occurs to her that just because it _must_ , doesn't mean it _will_.

And oh, god, she wishes she was inviting the same kinds of activities into her office as _last_ time they'd ended up in there following a meal.

_I told you to strip, and you did. I told you to kneel, and you did. You'd told me you wanted me to take you bent over the desk and that's exactly how I did it..._

Swallowing as she reciprocates the amiably relaxed smile Emma offers her with a forced stretching of her lips, she takes in the blonde's politely curious attention as the grey skies outside paint the room with a dull dose of her current reality. She yearns for the darkness and the warm flicker of the candles she recalls, but doesn't let it show that anything is amiss.

"Did you want to talk?"

Emma asks pleasantly, and Regina clenches her teeth as she nods briskly.

"I suppose we should. If you would care to accompany me to my office."

"I suppose I _could_ care to, yes."

The blonde grins, and Regina offers her a withering look that seems far too familiar to the both of them, before glancing at Henry and accepting his encouraging smile with a small nod of her head.

"This way, please."


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As may be slightly obvious by the severely sporadic updates, I am struggling a little with this fic. It's just a much more complex story plan than most of what I have done before so requires a bit more time and effort. I do miss writing SwanQueen as often as I used to though, so if anyone had any prompts at all for a oneshot or short story, please let me know, I'd love to have a go at something a little more lighthearted (or just less complicated, angst prompts are always appreciated too). Please enjoy, and reviews would make my day!

Once in the office, Regina gestures over towards the twin sofas that they had once lounged on sharing anecdotes, stories and each other. Emma takes a seat with her back towards the large desk in the corner, and regards the brunette hesitantly as the latter seems unsure what to do with herself.

It is not a predicament she wears well.

"Would you like a drink?"

Regina asks before sitting down- trying to buy some time- and Emma nods agreeably and watches as she stalks over to a small cabinet in the corner. It isn't anywhere near as well stocked as her own bar is back in Boston, but the doors are wonderfully ornate, and she guesses that whatever the Mayor has in there might just cost about the same as her entire collection.

"Cider?"

"Sure."

She agrees, momentarily a little disappointed that Regina hadn't meant something with a little kick to it, before she catches the distinctive scent of alcohol that blends in with the sweet nectar of the apples.

"Now _that's_ my kind of cider."

She grins, and the brunette sighs as she takes a seat.

"Yes, I thought you might feel that way, dear."

"... I'm not, like... I mean I like a drink, but I'm not-"

"-I meant no offence."

Regina assures swiftly, and she backs her words up with a weary smile as she raises her glass.

"I, myself, am not one to drink before dinner, but I'd say it's been a bit of a strange morning. I won't tell if you won't."

"Who would I tell?"

Emma points out honestly, and the Mayor offers a tight smile in response before sipping at the sweet cider in her glass, remembering the blonde's admission when she'd stolen the gin that she'd planned to try and seduce her and wondering if they'd have ended up sat opposite one another tasting apples that night if things hadn't all gone so terribly wrong.

"I make this myself."

Is all she says, and the younger woman raises a brow as she contemplates her glass with clear appreciation.

"Neat. I once tried making my own wine in a bathtub... Never quite got the knack. It tasted ok I guess, if you're a fan of vinegar, but it _was_ admittedly disturbingly lumpy."

Regina laughs darkly into her glass as she shakes her head, and for a moment things seem just as they always were as she regards the blonde with easy affection and a hint of amused despair.

"I can't say I've ever sampled wine that I would refer to as 'lumpy', nor can I say this is a shortcoming over which I will worry all _too_ much."

"It's the effort that counts."

"Yes, dear, but if one perishes upon consumption that seems neither here nor there."

"I survived."

Emma grins, goading her, and dark eyes glitter as the Mayor pulls a face to show just what she makes of that.

Smile faltering a little, the blonde sighs as she studies the amber in her glass thoughtfully and continues in a much lower tone.

"I appreciate the drink- especially on the job so to speak- but I guess I _did_ come here to apologise. It was rude leaving the way I did at breakfast, and I'm sorry."

"Accepted, but on one condition."

"What's that?"

"You explain why... You were _clearly_ upset, and as your employer, I suppose I should show some concern."

This last part she injects with purposeful satire, but her expression reads of honest interest and Emma chews her lip uncomfortably as she meets pretty, dark eyes warily.

"I wasn't upset."

"Could have fooled me."

"I was... Look. I can't really explain this without sounding kind of like a whack job..."

"Well, coming off the back of bathtub wine, I have yet to be convinced otherwise."

"... It was the picture you showed me."

"I figured as much, what with the timing of your exit."

Regina sniffs, purposefully refraining from prompting anything from the blonde. She wants to see what Emma has to say without being influenced or coaxed.

"This is going to sound crazy, but... It freaked me out because it looked like something _I_ might have drawn. And not just the style or anything like that. I mean, the writing and the way the hair was drawn- that really _could_ have been done by me. I almost... I almost can't see any other possibility than that it _was_... Which is, of course, nuts. I've never drawn anyone something to apologise for leaving them in my life. And even if I _had_... How in the hell would _you_ have come to have it?"

She finishes off with her knuckles blanched white around the glass and her tone inflected with a hint of desperate question. Understanding that the following silence calls for her to break it somehow, Regina leans forward to place her own glass delicately on the table before regarding the blonde pensively.

"You're right. That makes no sense at all."

She agrees. And Emma shoots her an irritable look that doesn't quite mask the disquiet beneath.

"The girl that drew me that picture, she wasn't called Alice. She told me that was her name when we first met, but only as a form of self defence. She was big on that- on building up walls to keep everyone out... As it is, I wouldn't say that I am necessarily all that _adept_ at carefully breaking those kinds of walls down, but somehow that's what happened between the two of us. She drew me that little picture after I took her in to work for me for a little while. She drew it to apologise for climbing out of a window in some ghastly joint on the dirty side of Boston in an attempt to ditch me. I wasn't so easily discarded however, and after a series of chaotic and sometimes worrisome events she handed me that illustration to express her regret that she'd fled the scene so swiftly...Although, even then, I had long since forgiven her."

"Oh..."

Emma offers after a long stretch of silence; not quite sure what to say. She is confused by the way the Mayor has turned the conversation around without asking her _more_ about her strange beliefs when it comes to the picture. She also suffers the most _disconcerting_ notion that the brunette's words are doing little to quell her ludicrous certainty that the illustration was completed by her own hand.

"So this was... This was a long time ago, then?"

She continues in what she hopes is a steady voice; just wanting to say something- _anything_ \- to shatter the silence.

"Ten years ago. I met her at the end of that hellishly hot summer in a rather unpleasant part of the city."

"That long?"

The blonde croaks, feeling as though her throat is lined with glass. She takes a drink thirstily, but the cider is gone far too soon, and she's fairly sure that her hands are shaking.

_Get a grip, Swan._

Sure, yes. Get a grip. She will, she always has done before, and in much more dire situations than this! She's dealt with enough crap to be able to handle the- admittedly odd- coincidence that the woman sat opposite her owns a picture that resembles her style rather uncannily. Really, what does an ironic likeness matter anyway?

_It doesn't. It doesn't matter at all._

And so _what_ if the brunette was given the doodle that summer?

_Don't. Don't even go there. Don't-_

"-My dear, would you like some more cider? Or some water?"

Regina interrupts, and Emma glances up at her fretfully as she can feel a familiar tightness settling in on her chest. For years now she has avoided thinking all too deeply on what had happened that following winter, and now, in the space of a couple of _days_ , she's returned there far more times than she cares for. The confusion, the disorientation, the fear that she might be going mad, _all_ of that seems suddenly much too close for comfort.

"Emma..."

The brunette prompts gently, and the younger woman nods woodenly as she hands over her empty glass.

"Water would probably be wise, but I think I need something stronger."

"Someone else dancing over your grave?"

Regina asks softly as she gets up and pours the blonde a healthy second course of cider.

"Something like that."

Emma nods. Regina's words remind her of the curious incident in the elevator, and she accepts her glass back with a flustered sigh as she's aware she's really not coming across all too confidently right now.

"That was a... A tough year for me. Sorry, I guess I got a bit lost in thought there."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

The brunette muses quietly and she watches as the younger woman drinks deeply- studying the pale column of her throat.

_Are you referring to Henry? To Boston? To something else? Something later? Oh, Emma, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of it- about everything- I truly am. I tried, dear. I tried so hard to make things as good as I could make them given the circumstances._

"It's cool, I'm over it."

The blonde shrugs with what Regina imagines she believes is convincing indifference.

_There's that mask again._

"I'm glad."

_I'm sorry._

Finishing her second glass, Emma licks sweet cider from her lips as she feels her cheeks burning a little from the alcohol. She doesn't really know what else to say. She supposes she should ask some more about Alice (or _not_ Alice as it appears) but she's hesitant. She's still not able to shake the sensation of- of _what?!_ \- involvement.

_What?!_

She knows it's crazy, and such erratic thinking isn't at all like her. As such, she's wary to approach the topic in the presence of another; not quite trusting herself to apply her usual brand of stubborn logic that the situation clearly requires. Fortunately, it seems Regina is all talked out on the topic for the time being too, as she glances up at a clock above the hearth.

"I'm afraid I might need to excuse myself in a moment. I have an appointment in town."

"Oh. Ok. Well I mean, do you want me to try and look into anything, or-"

"-No, dear... Let me see to my business first and then I will give some thought to how we should continue. As I said, I am playing a lot of this by ear, and I'm trusting you will be patient with me."

"... Yeah. Sure. Okay."

Emma frowns, still not entirely sure what she's doing here at _all_.

_This place is wrong somehow, and we both know it..._

"Do you want me to see you out?"

"Nah, it's cool. I guess I'll just go keep busy. Here."

The younger woman reaches into the pocket of her jeans and pulls out a card.

"My number's on there. Let me know if you want me."

And with that she leaves- still looking slightly spooked- while Regina muses upon those words wistfully.

Listening to the opening and closing of the front door, she pushes herself up and makes her way upstairs, telling Henry she will be back shortly and nodding stiffly when he asks her if she's going to see who he thinks she is.

"Careful, mom..."

"Always, dear."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I suppose I shouldn't admit this, but Regina's words/ concerns here are basically my own in terms of the tangled web I've managed to weave -_- oops. Ah well. I like trying to figure things out, so this will be an adventure for me as well as anyone reading! Hope I do a decent job :) Please enjoy and review!

Taking in a deep breath with her hand rested hesitantly on the the brass door plate, Regina swallows before pushing it open. A low whine harmonised by the soft tinkle of a wind chime greets her as she steps across the threshold and waits for her eyes to adjust to the gloom of the place. At first glance she appears to be alone, but she knows better and stalks stiffly across ancient floorboards to pull back the dusky velvet curtain that hangs behind a deserted counter.

"Gold."

She sighs as the little man peers over steeped fingers at her, his teeth glittering obscenely as he smiles.

"Ah, Regina. I was beginning to wonder about you. I would have thought you might have come to me sooner."

"Why would you presume I might come to you at all?"

She asks, and he offers a queer little giggle and gestures that she should take a seat with an impish flourish of his hand. She obliges uncomfortably, perching on the very edge of the old chesterfield that matches his own.

"Are we _really_ going to start this conversation with a game?"

The little man chides, and he wags his finger at her as though she might be a misbehaving child.

"Game?"

"Oh, dearie. You may have grown used to the, hmm... _Forgetful_ spate that seems to plague this town, but not _all_ of us were so hopelessly afflicted."

"You remember her?"

"Her? _Who,_ dearie?"

He asks, but his smirk belies his inquiry and she snaps at him irritably.

"You _know_ who I'm here about... Who told you she was back?"

"No one. I simply presumed after finding you absent on a rather important date."

"You knew I'd bring her back?"

"Of course."

"You knew she'd come?"

"... Would you have given her a choice?"

"Of _course_ I would have! I would _never_ do anything to-"

"-Ah ah ah. Let's not enter this parlay with a lie. It wouldn't be the _first_ time you enforced your will upon the poor girl."

"... I would never do anything to harm her."

"No. Not if you could help it. You'd not hurt the Saviour, this is true... Hilarious! But true."

"Forgive me if I don't find the predicament to be all that amusing."

"Forgiven. But then, you never _were_ renowned for your sense of humour. Nor your unwillingness to harm another, come to think of it. But Emma? Oh, Emma is _special_ , isn't she dearie. You'd not hurt _her_ , no... But what about the suffering she causes _you_?"

He asks, and the brunette frowns as she replies darkly

"I am aware that there may be some difficulties sure to arise between us, but I know Emma. She's not going to hurt me. And besides, I want what she'll want. I'm on her side."

"Oh, yes, she's shown you the light, I know. It's a frightfully dull turn of events. However, I'm not _talking_ about the Saviour's wrath. I'm talking about the pain she's causing you right now just by _being_ here... It _does_ hurt, doesn't it, dearie? Being around her? Tell me, Regina, when you look at her, does it illicit a low ache in your stomach? Is it torture having her around when you know you can't-"

"-Enough. I didn't come here to talk about my feelings for the girl."

"... Forgive me, Madame Mayor, but I thought that was _precisely_ why you'd come here."

Gold argues, not unkindly. He raises a brow to coax her to explain, and she sighs wearily and lowers her eyes to study the uneasy dance of her hands wringing in her lap.

"How I feel about Emma is something I am having to deal with and my own cross to bear. I didn't come to you for advice on whatever sense of relationship we may have. What would a man like _you_ know about any of that? I came here because what you _do_ know about is planning. Getting your way. Finding the best solution in a tricky situation... I don't think I've ever been in a situation as complex as this one... I need to know what to do."

"And what makes you think I have any _interest_ in what you do?"

"... You have your own reason for creating the Saviour. I don't know what it is, but I know _you_ , and I know how your twisted little mind works. If she wasn't supposed to be here, she _wouldn't_ be. You would have made sure of it."

"The idea that I have my own interest in Miss Swan is both presumptive and entirely irrelevant. As you said, I am a dab hand at twisting situations in ways that best suit me should the necessity arise. As for what _you_ do and how _you_ feel on the matter... That's none of my concern-"

"-I lied to her."

The brunette interrupts, and the old shopkeeper licks his lips as he muses on this for a moment before asking her to proceed.

"How so?"

"She kept asking me what I _wanted_. Who I was and what I wanted. I panicked and I told her I was looking for someone. I gave her a name. It was foolish, and just another problem that now needs to be solved, but I didn't know how else to get her to come back with me. I figured if I made it sound like I was giving her a job, it would answer any questions that I was otherwise unable to answer... Truly, she _is_ here to do a job. Just not the one she believes she is."

"What name did you give her?"

"Alice."

"... Interesting."

"It was how she introduced herself to me when we met. I told her I was looking for Emma Swan and she gave me a false name and said she was merely an acquaintance."

"Then she is much smarter than I had thought."

"... She is. She's also starting to become curious about the lack of information I have on the girl I've brought her here to seek. It was a mistake born out of panic, but one that also seemed mildly poetic at first. After all, I really _do_ need her to find another version of herself."

"That may seem slightly more sane to someone clued up on _both_ sides of the situation."

"... I realise this now."

"So what do you want _me_ to do about it?"

"I want to know where to begin. I can spin her the story about wanting to locate a woman from my past for a little while longer I imagine as she believes she is being paid for the inconvenience... But that is only the tip of something so much larger."

"You brought her here to break the curse..."

Gold muses quietly, and Regina opens her mouth hesitantly as she regards him with wary uncertainty before offering a stiff nod and agreeing. She sees no sense in denying it now.

"Yes."

"... I trust you understand what that would mean?"

"I have spent the last ten years thinking about little else."

"And you are willing to lose everything? Everything you worked so hard to build up?"

"... My priorities have changed. I am willing to lose everything else if it means I can have her."

"Sweet."

Gold smirks, but he carries on in a strangely gentle tone; the same tone he would use now and then back when he had been her mentor in a truer sense and she'd pleased him.

"Do you really think she will _want_ anything to do with you if she does what you currently will of her?"

"... I... I don't know. I just know that I promised her I would help her."

"... From what I know, you _did_."

"No... I patched up the worst of it. I saw to it that she could live comfortably."

"But that's not enough?"

"No... I want here to live _happily_."

"Even if it means sacrificing your _own_ happiness?"

"I'm hoping it won't come to that."

"What if it does?"

"... Then yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes. I would give up my own so that she might be happy. The only reason I was able to rediscover my belief in happiness at _all_ is because of her. My son is her blood. My memories of her are the best that I have. I will always have those, even if I have to forfeit the adventure of making new ones. I just want her to be happy."

Regina confides. Her voice trembles slightly as she does so, and not simply out of emotion. She has always been wary of sharing too much with Gold- with Rumple- as she knows his true nature and is well aware that he is seldomly to be trusted. As it is, she sees no other way of approaching the situation. Previously, when he had taunted her with his suspicions that she might love the blonde, it had done her no good to deny the truth. She is tired of playing games. She knows he will see through any lies anyway.

Gold nods, rubbing pensively at the scruff lining his jaw before continuing gravely

"The two are not mutually exclusive, I don't believe. But nor is one guaranteed by the sacrifice of the other. There is a very good chance this situation could break _both_ of you... I am not saying that I wish it to be so. I am merely reminding you that the curse you cast wasn't a fickle hex that may throw up a mild bump in the road here and there. You did what others would not dare to do, Regina. The fact that you no longer feel the way that you did back then changes very little. There is no saying what will happen if Miss Swan is successful... But you know as well as I do that magic comes with a price. _Dark_ magic... Well. The price reflects the power. If you break this curse, you may find that what you have paid thus far was merely a deposit."

"... If I don't break it then she will never understand that she _was_ loved. That she _was_ wanted. If I don't break it, it will feed like it did before... If the curse breaks, it could destroy everything... But if it doesn't? Then neither of us can ever truly be happy."

"You never _wanted_ anyone else to be happy."

"That was before I met Emma."

The brunette sighs, and Gold smiles thinly as he splays his fingers in a gesture of 'what can you do?'.

"So what's your dilemma?"

"... Henry."

"Ah."

"I can't keep that from her, not again... But where do I _begin_? Where will it _end_? I have spun myself a tangled web and I am caught in the middle of it. There's Henry, there's the curse, there's Alice, there's our past. There are so many things that need to be addressed and I am drowning beneath the waves... If I tell her about Henry I could jeopardise everything else."

"So don't tell her."

"... I have to."

"No."

" _No?!_ "

"No. You don't _have_ to. But you will. Because you think it's the right thing to do."

Gold shrugs, and the Mayor hisses angrily

"I don't _think_ it! I _know_ it! How could I _not_ tell her? How could we progress with that level of deceit at the very start?"

"You've told her once before."

"That was different. She _trusted_ me then."

"Well... Seems to me, you are going to need to get her to trust you _again_. Do what you will in regards to the truth about your boy... But I would advise that you deal with such small inconveniences before tackling the curse."

" _Inconveniences?!_ "

"Quite... In the grand scheme of things, yes. You must fight the battle before you can win the war."

* * *

Walking slowly down the street with her hands in her pockets, Emma kicks a stone lazily as she looks around with mild curiosity. She is not as much bored as she is _confused_ , and she has no clue whatsoever what it is she's supposed to be doing. This lack of direction combined with her strong intuition that something seems entirely _off_ about her current situation would usually have her bailing out swiftly and painlessly. She's actually fairly _surprised_ at herself that she's still sticking around given the mixed vibes and conflicting signals she's received from her current employer.

Regina.

The brunette doesn't appear to have much more of an idea on any of this than she does herself, and yet... Well, there's something _intriguing_ about her.

Something magnetic.

And something niggling in the back of her mind that tells her she needs to stay just a little while longer.

"Easy money at least."

She grins to herself, but it's a slightly strained expression as she can't quite shake the feeling that she's balancing naively over something a whole lot bigger than she's aware of. Something that might trip her up and swallow her whole.

"Paranoid."

She scoffs, before coming to a halt as she stares up at the building just in front of her. Her eyes travel immediately to a small window on the second floor, before scanning dusty red brick intently. She takes a couple of steps closer with a furrowing of her brow, approaching a nondescript front door that she knows- just _knows_ \- squeals horribly if pushed past a certain point. Swallowing thickly she extends her hand as though in a trance, reaching out for the guilted handle. She-

" _Ah!_ Fuck!"

" _Oh!_ "

The unfortunate woman who materialises in the doorway with her bag clutched to her side yelps in surprise.

"Don't _do_ that!"

Emma admonishes, gathering herself shakily.

"I... Well I...I was just leaving. What are _you_ doing?!"

"I'm... I... "

Struggling for an answer as pleasant green eyes regard her curiously, the blonde shakes her head as she comes up empty.

"Nothing. I was doing nothing."

She replies gruffly, and the other woman thinks on this before shrugging and offering a smile.

"Well... Maybe you should do 'nothing' somewhere other than in the doorway."

"I-"

Emma starts, feeling that old instinctive anger when confronted rising swiftly in her throat. Biting it off aggressively, she assesses the other woman's smile as unusually genuine and relaxes just a little.

"Yeah. Maybe so... Sorry for scaring you."

"Likewise...?"

"Emma."

"Nice to meet you, Emma. I'm Mary Margaret. Now, maybe you can warn me next time."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Finally have some sense of a plan for the next part of this fic. I attempted to explain/ lay it out a little here, but not sure how well it comes across. Hopefully it will all fall into place soon as I should have a few more chapters up shortly now that I know what they're going to be about! Reviews would be lovely :)

_"Nice to meet you, Emma. I'm Mary Margaret. Now, maybe you can warn me next time."_

"Well, I was just passing on my way, you're probably safe."

The blonde shrugs, and her new acquaintance smiles pleasantly as she hitches her bag up onto her shoulder.

"Well, don't stop lurking on _my_ account. Where were you headed? I'm on my way to the hospital if you wanted company?"

"Uh..."

Emma hesitates, not altogether sure _where_ it is she's going, nor how best to turn down the other woman's offer of suspiciously sincere friendliness.

"I guess to Granny's Diner."

She shrugs eventually, and Mary Margaret beams as she beckons for the younger woman to fall in step beside her.

"Great! That's on my way."

She smiles, and the blonde reciprocates thinly as she accepts her fate and strolls alongside the woman she's just succeeded in scaring the shit out of.

"How come you're going to the hospital?"

She asks, trying to find a topic of conversation to alleviate the awkwardness that regularly torments her in the face of small talk.

"I volunteer there while I'm not teaching at the school."

Mary Margaret explains with a sunny grin, and Emma studies her casually- taking in sensible ballet flats and the soft mauve of the woman's duffle coat- and thinking to herself 'of course you do.'

"What about you?"

"What _about_ me?"

"What do you do? I've never seen you around here before."

"... So?"

Emma frowns, before attempting to retract some of the gruffness in her tone as the schoolteacher looks taken aback and a little stung.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound off with you. It's just surely there's _loads_ of people you've not seen or spoken to before? I know this town is pretty small, but still..."

"You're from somewhere else?"

"Yeah. Boston at the moment. I'm here helping the Mayor with something."

The blonde explains, and Mary Margaret raises a brow as she takes in tight black denim, harsh red leather and chunky scuffed boots with mild surprise. She wouldn't have thought Regina would find the young woman's attire- or attitude- to be all that suitable.

"Well, I've never been to Boston so I don't know how it works over there, but here, you get to recognise a face."

The schoolteacher smiles, and Emma shrugs as she follows the other woman across the village square.

"Well, that's me."

She states awkwardly, pointing over at the diner across the street, and Mary Margaret nods as she comes to a stop and assesses the younger woman hesitantly. She senses a brittleness and an evasiveness in the blonde's demeanour that she would ordinarily take heed of when approaching those more unfamiliar to her, but there is something _underneath_ the stiff set of the blonde's jaw and the prickliness in her tone that gives her pause. She swallows as she meets cool, green eyes momentarily- aware that the silence between them is a shared factor of uneasiness and inexplicable confusion- noting a couple of faint freckles dappling sharp features and hair-line imperfections either side of the younger woman's mouth.

_When she laughs, she shakes with it._

_She says she's not a nice person and I think a part of her truly believes that._

_She apologised for stealing the gin and wanted me to yell at her or punish her somehow... I believe the fact that I didn't- the fact that I expressed concern rather than anger- was harder for her to handle than any words I might have found to scold her._

"Yes. That's you."

Mary Margaret agrees quietly, catching the slight narrowing of the blonde's eyes before the latter looks swiftly away and appears to gather herself.

"It was nice to meet you."

The schoolteacher throws out abruptly as the younger woman turns to leave.

"Oh. Ok. You too."

Emma replies over her shoulder, before turning once more for the Diner with a frown.

_You helped me._

_You told me to ask her how she wanted her steak, but in the end I messed it all up._

_It didn't matter._

_She fucked me anyway._

Making her way up the steps and into the late morning lull of the Diner, the blonde swallows, ordering a coffee to take up to her room while ignoring the inexplicable ache in her stomach.

 _Oh, come now, Swan. It's a little_ lower _than that._

* * *

"Mom?"

Henry calls hesitantly as he knocks on the office door. He pokes his head around before receiving an answer and lets himself in when he finds the brunette sat on one of the low sofas that centre the grand room with her head bowed.

"Mom..."

He tries again, walking over and taking a seat beside her, noting the small doodle she holds in her hand and looking from it to the drawn pull of her features solemnly.

"Are you ok?"

"Yes, dear."

She sighs, and he nods without taking her words as the absolute truth. He glances down at the two glasses that sit empty on the table and detects the faintest smell of cider. He doesn't think he has _ever_ known his mother to drink during the day and he feels a faint pang of unease, but when she speaks to him she does so clearly and with no signs of the intoxication sometimes parodied on the shows he's seen.

"Did you clean away your comics like Johanna asked?"

"Yes. Did you talk to Mr Gold?"

"I did."

She nods, and she folds the picture in her hand carefully, but doesn't put it away.

"Henry. I don't know what to do."

She admits, and the boy looks up at her pensively. There is a morose undertone to her voice and he places his hand gently over hers.

"What did Gold say?"

"Lots of things. He said _lots_ of things, Henry. But none of them _helpful.._. I should never have deviated from the plan. I should never have shown her this."

She clutches the image in her hand tighter before glancing at Henry glumly.

"Gold asked me what I was willing to to do to assure Miss Swan's happiness. He asked me if I understood the _weight_ of what I've done. If I understood the repercussions of casting the curse."

"... I know you're sorry, mom."

Henry consoles earnestly, and she smiles stiffly while her lashes glisten with moisture.

"I just wanted to know where to _start_. I just wanted that _one_ little clue. I _understand_ what I've done. I've been thinking about what I've done for _years_ now! And even though nobody else knew- _nobody_ knew what I'd _done_ \- none of them could see any good in me, Henry. None of them. I saw it on their faces, even when they were giving me their best and politest 'yes, Madam Mayor' smiles. They couldn't see it... _Emma_ saw it. Emma saw it before I even knew any goodness still _existed_. It's _there_ , but I don't know how to use it.

All I want to do is _help_ her.

And I don't know how."

Nibbling his lip thoughtfully, Henry pushes himself up and walks over to his bag which rests in the corner beside the brunette's desk, ready for help with some of his maths homework. Pulling out the storybook, he brings it back to the sofa and opens it up with a frown. Reaching for the small piece of paper held reverently in his mother's hand, he takes it from her gently and unfolds it; placing it neatly alongside the final image in the book of the Evil Queen revelling in her dark curse.

"You _do_ know how, mom."

"...Emma has to believe. I have to get the Saviour to believe in _magic_..."

"No. The Saviour has to believe in _you_."

"...Gold said something similar. He said I needed to regain her trust. I just don't see how I _can_ do that while I'm lying to her. I'm trying to do the right thing!"

"Maybe the _right_ thing isn't what you think it is."

Henry sounds out slowly. Tracing the lines of the blonde's long ago illustration, he taps a chewed fingernail against the younger woman's rendition of the Mayor.

"She believed in you then. You said she loved you."

"Things were _different_ then. I'd helped her, so she trusted me. Back then I was able to prove myself to her. Now, I-"

"-That's the thing!"

The boy pipes up, and when the brunette frowns at him helplessly, he raises small palms in the air as though the solution is painfully simple

"True love can fix almost _anything_ , you've told me _hundreds_ of times!"

"Henry! She doesn't _remember_ any of the things that led her to trust me in the first place! She doesn't love me; I'm a _stranger_ to her! I'm-"

"Exactly!"

Henry grins, and dark eyes widen as Regina regards him disbelievingly

"What on _earth_ is funny about that?"

Shaking his head, the young boy looks up at his mother with a kinder smile.

"Operation Ocelot was always about getting my mom- Emma- to break the _curse_... What if there are _two_ curses, though? What if, instead of the dark curse, you tried to break the one you put on her with the memory potion?"

"That wasn't a _curse_ , I would _never_ have-"

"-Can it be _broken_?"

The boy persists earnestly, and Regina swallows as she looks down at the little cartoon the young girl she'd once found so hellishly confusing had drawn her as a form of apology. She recalls the intensity of the feelings that had followed- the emotions that had come with slowly understanding what was _really_ happening between herself and the curious blonde she'd once sought to destroy- and sighs wistfully.

"I suppose it can. Much like the sleeping curse, it can be broken."

"By a kiss?"

"Henry... "

"It's a kiss, isn't it?"

Henry grins.

"Even if it _was_... She doesn't love me anymore..."

"Well, no, of course not! She doesn't _remember_! But that doesn't mean that the love is gone. It's just... Forgotten. If you tried to get her to remember some of the feelings she had for you, maybe it would work. Maybe if you get her to love you again, you can make her remember."

"Henry..."

Regina sighs, shaking her head regretfully

"If she remembers, what _then_? If she remembers, she'll remember I abandoned her. She'll remember I... I hurt her. She'll-"

"-She'll remember that you _helped_ her. She'll remember she can trust you. She'll remember... About me... I know you're worried about talking to her because you feel guilty about not telling her the truth. If you help her remember, mom, then she _might_ be mad, ok? She might be really, really mad. But she'll also be confused. She won't be _alone_ though, if you help her... Right now, she kind of is. And so are you. You have me and I love you, but I can't help you do what you want to do. Emma _can_! And, if you make her remember that she loved you, then... She _will_. She'll help you, because that's what you do when you love someone."

Accepting Henry's earnest smile, Regina closes her eyes and pulls him in, hugging him to her tightly as she whispers into his hair

"Sometimes I don't know how you could be as good as you are. You're so much like your mother."

Shaking his head against the soft swell of the brunette's chest- her heart a soothing beat against his ear- Henry challenges her

"I learnt it from _you_. I don't care what it says in the book. You want to help Emma. That makes you good. That makes you a hero-"

"-Let's not get carried away. Spare me _some_ dignity."

She smirks, and he chuckles contently.

"It will be ok."

"I hope so..."

She sighs, holding him gently while ruminating over what he's said. She supposes he's right. Her best shot is to try and reclaim at least _some_ of what has been lost in hopes that she can maintain just a shadow of the unwavering trust she had once been allowed. If Emma trusts her even a little, things will go a lot easier.

That said, asking for trust in the face of how she'd finished things between them is a rather daunting prospect.

"Well... I suppose I knew this was never going to be easy."

She laments out loud and Henry smiles as he asks

"So, you'll try Operation Granny's?"

"Operation Granny's?"

"Sure. If you want her to remember she loves you, you have to take her on a date _somewhere_."

He rolls his eyes while imparting this ten year old logic- not quite having come to comprehend the basis of his mothers' relationship, but equating any love that isn't parental love with the innocent courtship he has seen portrayed countless times in the book. Regina chokes at this suggestion as her brows raise almost to her hairline, aware that she blushes like an idiot and scoffing primly

"I might just try _talking_ to her first."

 _And besides. If I am to entertain such a bizarre shift in approach, I would never name something so important after_ that _old crone!_

"Yeah. That's probably a good idea."

Henry nods wisely, and the brunette accepts this silent cue to do just as she has suggested, feeling uncharacteristically flushed. Checking her hair in the mirror above the mantel, she reminds the boy that he has clothes to be put away waiting on the landing.

"I know, I know. Good luck, mom."

"... I'm only going over to talk to her."

She warns, before grabbing her coat and heading off to search out the blonde with a knot of anticipation in her stomach.

_If you say so, dearest. I daresay it's actually a little lower._


	22. Chapter 22

Climbing the stairs to the boarding rooms at Granny's, Regina tells herself she's not actually _nervous_ about visiting the blonde.

"I mean, really."

Coming to a halt at the top of the steps, she realises belatedly that she hadn't paid any attention when Ruby had handed Emma her key, and so has no way of knowing which room she's in.

 _Nonsense. You know_ exactly _which room she's in._

Walking slowly to the middle of the three doors that host rooms overlooking the neat little garden hidden behind the building, she knocks lightly on flimsy pine, much as she has done so many times before.

"Yeah?"

Emma calls, and the brunette rolls her eyes as she lets herself in and fixes the younger woman with an appropriate look of disdain.

"You're not even going to check who it is before lazily waiting for them to enter?"

She scoffs, and the blonde looks up at her from her casual slouch against the bed's headboard, and shrugs.

"I thought it would be you."

"Did you?"

"Well, yeah. You invited me here."

Emma frowns, and the Mayor nods as she accepts that the blonde has a point, and that she would do well to make up for her rather peculiar behaviour since.

"I suppose that's true... I apologise that I had to excuse myself so abruptly earlier."

"It's fine."

The blonde shrugs, taking a sip of the cooling coffee that rests on her nightstand and glancing back down at the laptop resting open in her lap. She raises a brow and taps at the keys lightly with a little smirk before looking back up at Regina.

"Did you want to get down to it?"

She asks, and the brunette offers a thin smile in response as she forbids herself from taking the younger woman's words in any other manner but professionally.

"Actually, I just figured I should come and thank you for your patience. I am aware that since bringing you here I haven't been the best host. I was hoping I might be able to rectify any ill feelings on your part with a dinner invitation."

She offers with a sultry smile that allows no hint of the fact her heart flutters at the prospect.

"Sure. I mean, I _have_ no ill feelings or anything like that, but I'm always game for dinner!"

Emma grins back, and she glances down at the empty space at the end of her bed at the same time as Regina does, before looking up and meeting the brunette's eyes. The darker woman sighs quietly as she recalls perching on the edge of the blonde's bed several times before, but doesn't quite dare make such a familiar move now. It would be one thing if it were taken as suggestive, but she is fairly certain it might still be read as intrusive in Emma's eyes.

_Curious though, that she seems to have been thinking along the same lines..._

"Are you busy?"

She asks as she makes her way over to the old armchair in the corner instead.

"Not really, just keeping up with a few side jobs. More to kill time than anything else."

Emma sighs, before placing the laptop aside and pushing herself up.

"Though I guess now you've interrupted, you've given me a reason to get up. I've been dying for the bathroom for about half an hour, but I was too comfortable to bother moving."

She chuckles, and the brunette furrows her brow as she sniffs primly

"I'm not sure I _really_ needed to know that."

"Ah, consider it a bonus then."

The blonde replies breezily, and painted lips stretch into a fond smile before the Mayor can help herself and she watches the younger woman disappear into the small ensuite bathroom. Looking back towards the bed, the affectionate cast to her features drops as her brow creases, the blonde's laptop still open and its contents catching her off guard.

Glancing up at the closed bathroom door, she pushes herself up from the chair and leans over the bed, tracing her fingers slowly over the trackpad to scroll down the page. Her eyes skim over cramped text that reads entirely false to her; inane answers under headings such as 'interests' and 'hobbies' cut straight out of a book. The pictures, though... Well, the pictures at the top of the page under the site's crude valentine's heart aren't taken from any book.

One of them appears to be taken in the blonde's own apartment; the pristine white of her sofa matching an uncharacteristically girlish V necked sweater.

A couple more seem to have been snapped in restaurants or bars, each showing the younger woman with a drink held in her hand and a soft smile touching her lips with a symmetry the brunette knows bares no resemblance to the half-cocked smirk Emma flashes when she's genuinely amused.

But it's the main picture of the five that she finds her attention returning to every time she tries to move past it. The profile picture. Long, golden curls are held back messily, and she supposes the younger woman could have just tied them back carelessly, but she doesn't _think_ so. Red lipstick and a devastatingly low cut dress don't seem as though there's _anything_ careless in the way Emma has presented herself. No. The messy hair is no accident. It's supposed to look ruffled, not low maintenance as she herself remembers it looking when mussed up this way. It's bedroom hair. Just as the sooty shadow smudged ever so slightly to compliment cool green hints at things that a more delicate application might not. It's an enticing picture, and an altogether rather _clever_ picture. The dress is obscenely well fitting, but not so racy as to be considered in poor taste. The girl's expression is sinfully captivating and yet a little demure.

It is a picture that leaves the viewer helpless to imagine fucking its subject without cheapening the desire by offering too many spoilers on just how that might go.

And she-

"-What are you doing?"

Emma interrupts, and Regina stumbles back slightly in her shock at being caught in the act of snooping before she pulls herself together and throws the blonde a haughty look.

A look that she hopes masks the hot blush she can feel creeping up her throat.

"This is _work_ , is it?"

The brunette scoffs, and she is aware that her tone caries just a hint of anger that she really hopes doesn't come across as possessive.

Or worse; jealous.

"It is."

Emma agrees, crossing her arms casually as she remains leant against the doorframe and offering a slow smirk as she meets the Mayor's fiery expression.

"I _told_ you. It's how I set up my marks. I may be here working for you, but you wouldn't believe how much _groundwork_ goes into some of those meetings! I mean, it's kind of _surprising_!"

She rolls her eyes, and Regina bites her tongue as she reads between the lines and catches the real meaning of the blonde's perplexion to be the need for conversation at all.

_What with what they have on offer..._

"Hmm."

She offers noncommittally, fussing with her hair while striving to look suitably disapproving. Emma catches her out easily and her grin only widens as she nods towards the laptop on the bed

"Get a good look though, did you?"

"Good enough. Your answer as to what would constitute a perfect date was _especially_ nauseating."

Regina replies silkily, but this only earns her a low chuckle as Emma nods in agreement.

"Thanks. I tried extra hard with that one."

She grins- the crooked grin the brunette remembers- before continuing boldly

"That's not what I meant, though. Your holier than thou reaction has nothing to do with my taste in music or the three things I would like to do before I die..."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. If you ask me 'something you can move your hips to' deserves all the disdain I am able to muster."

"Well, yeah, I guess that's true."

The blonde shrugs, before making her way over and closing the laptop with a slow and purposeful push of her finger. She stares down the brunette while doing so, commenting coyly

" _As_ you seem to want to avoid the subject, I suppose we can be done with that now..."

"Quite."

Regina nods stiffly, feeling simultaneously furious that she should be being bested in their old favourite game of Chicken, and still rather flustered by the pictures recently discovered.

"So. You were asking me out for dinner..."

Emma prompts with a shit eating grin, and the Mayor studies her cooly as she waits for some of the blonde's smugness to dissipate in the face of her unspoken hold over the younger woman.

_It might be ten years on, but somehow it still exists. It's still there. Nowhere near as damning as it once was, but maybe that's for the best._

_She's harder now. Bolder._

_But I've seen it in her eyes a few times over the past couple of days..._

_I make her nervous._

_I make her nervous- though she would never fully_ _admit to_ anyone _making her feel that way these days- and she's unsure what to make of it._

_I make her nervous, and she likes it._

"I was inviting you over, yes."

Regina confirms pleasantly, allowing her own languid smile as Emma's grin is replaced with a sudden interest in the pattern of the bedspread.

"Cool. Sounds good."

The younger woman remarks nonchalantly.

"If you say so, dear."

"You're not, uh... You're not gonna ask me more about that picture though, right?"

Emma asks hesitantly, and the Mayor swallows as she thinks of tousled curls- _they always_ did _explode so prettily over the pillows_ \- and sultry black shadow.

"...The picture?"

She asks in what she hopes is a bored voice.

 _A_ steady _voice at least!_

"Yeah. You know; the picture you showed me earlier. I know my explanation wasn't that _great_ , but I don't have a better one, and I-"

"-Ah. I see. _That_ picture."

"... Well, yeah. What other-"

"-Rest assured, dear" Regina interrupts, "I am proposing a meeting of pleasure rather than business."

Smooth talk from a silken tongue, and any discomfort the Mayor might be feeling left over from her perusal of the blonde's fictitious dating profile is alleviated as she watches Emma's throat work at her accidental- _Oh, please_...- play on words.

"... I guess I'll see you tonight, then."

The blonde muses with admirable breeziness given the light blush colouring her cheeks.

_What the hell is going on here?_

_And why doesn't it feel wrong?!_

"I guess you shall. Eight o'clock. Don't be late."


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Regina, you sly fox. Please review :)

Looking up as a low knock beats against the front door, Regina checks herself in the reflective glass of the cooker before straightening up, checking her dress, and making her way into the hallway. She throws a quick glance up at the landing to check that Henry's bedroom door remains closed, although she doubts that the boy has been claimed by the sandman just yet.

_"You asked Emma over?"_

He'd grinned at her earlier as they'd sat sharing hot drinks in her office- he a hot chocolate, she a latte- and the topic had been a firm favourite for the rest of the evening until she'd told him to give it a rest. She'd done so harshly, before reiterating her request a little more gently, and he'd complied although she'd still recognised the ill-guarded expression of intrigue grace his face when he'd come rapping at her bedroom door to say goodnight while she'd been in the middle of changing. She'd frowned at him, the zipper lining the side of her dress still undone and her hair up in a towel, asking him if he might consider waiting to be invited in next time- _very much like your mother_ \- but she'd found herself smirking gleefully when he'd kissed her and retired to his own room with the chirped remark

_"I like that dress the best."_

Smoothing the tight material over hips as she walks to the door now, she would say she agrees; it is a relatively plain garment for one who had once favoured crystals and lace, but it is expertly fitted, and the deep crimson hue compliments her complexion nicely.

She wonders for a moment just what Emma might have up her sleeve as far as wardrobe this evening- not entirely sure how her suggestion of a dinner date ( _you never called it that!_ ) might have been received- and squeezing her eyes shut as her fingers brush the door handle; praying for her own sanity the blonde hadn't packed the devilish black dress spied earlier today on her dratted dating profile.

"Good evening."

Regina greets as she pulls open stately white wood, and the younger woman's easy smile becomes momentarily strained as her eyes travel soft curves and rich fabric.

"Hey. Wow. When you said dinner, I didn't know you meant..."

A frown and a gesture at the brunette's sleek form, and the Mayor primps happily, feigning ignorance.

"Meant what, dear?"

She asks coyly, and Emma shrugs- swiftly burying away her clear surprise- and compliments much more casually

"You look nice."

"Thank you."

Regina smiles, letting the blonde in and smirking when the latter removes her shoes. She doesn't recall Emma ever doing anything like that back when they'd been better acquainted, but Henry had let slip earlier how he'd let the girl in on some of the silent rules of the house, and she finds this willing show of obedience and ploy for winning favour privately amusing.

Not to mention she can far better appreciate the younger woman's outfit without the ugly addition of heavy boots disproportionate to slim legs.

Emma _hasn't_ appropriated a dress for the occasion, and the Mayor supposes she is a little relieved. Not only would she find the choice to be distracting, but it also doesn't really fall in line with how she remembers the blonde, and the simple black jeans and dove grey sweater the younger woman has thrown on suit her well.

"Come in."

Regina requests, beckoning the blonde into the kitchen. She points to the stools surrounding the island and asks Emma if she would prefer red or white wine. A part of her had originally wanted to play this evening out elsewhere, one of the town's few restaurants perhaps, as the promise of sharing dinner in the warm light of her dining room had threatened too many painful memories. It had occurred to her midway through dialling to make a reservation that taking the younger woman out for the evening would be something that might spread quickly about town, and while she doubts any of the idiot cretins would stumble upon the reality of her reasoning, idle chatter at her expense is something she loathes regardless.

_And this continuing sense of deja vu seems an inescapable facet of this entire situation._

Handing Emma a generous glass of chilled white wine, she pours herself a similarly large glass of red and holds it up with a small smile.

"Enjoy."

"Thanks."

Emma grins, taking a couple of sips as she watches the brunette pull a roasting tray out the oven. Her attention is drawn to the impeccable fit of the darker woman's dress, and she finds herself undecided on whether this change of clothes was meant for _her_ benefit or is simply in character for the Mayor when hosting.

_There you go again with the wishful thinking, Swan._

True, but she would go so far as to argue that the way the curious woman has behaved around her since inviting herself into her apartment a little under a week go has been peculiar to say the least. Some of that has been intertwined with the obscure job she seems to want done, but a large part of it is something else. There is a tension between them that is not altogether unpleasant, and the blonde wonders if some of the Mayor's strange mannerisms might have a lot to do with being unsure about what she feels.

If that's the case, then Emma can sympathise. It had taken punching her old roommate square in the jaw before she'd finally come to the realisation that her complete confusion in the face of the smart-mouthed student nurse had been born from attraction. Before this enlightening discovery, she'd simply found herself frequently knocking things over and feeling both giddy and agitated in her presence.

_Are you honestly suggesting Madame Mayor here is giving you a difficult time because being around you is giving her unexplained stomach cramps and a desire to flip you onto the sofa?_

"Of course not."

She murmurs quietly under her breath, offering the darker woman's backside a comprehensive study while surreptitiously brushing the cool relief of her wine glass against each cheek to try an quell the hot blush she can feel threatening to give her away.

_Not that I would mind if things worked out like they had with Leilani..._

Zoning out with the happy memory of the way things had been once she had come to terms with her feelings- and the exquisite evening she'd come home to find her roommate wearing a lab coat and little else- she jumps when Regina calls her back to the present with sharp authority.

"When you've _quite_ finished daydreaming, dinner is ready."

The brunette huffs, hiding her intrigue as she hasn't missed the wicked little smile on the younger woman's lips as she'd sat staring into space.

"Great."

Emma grins, completely unabashed at being scolded, and Regina sighs as she sends her through to the dining room, wondering how it could be that ten years have changed the girl so little.

_Not true._

She reminds herself, and this is seconded as Emma takes her seat at the table casually, the slightly skittish electric energy that had once swaddled her in a chaotic cloud nowhere to be seen.

 _Yes, well, last time we sat as we do now, it had been_ Miss Swan _who had everything at stake and_ myself _in the driving seat._

True, she supposes, but she had still found herself troubled by the situation.

_I had wanted what I couldn't- shouldn't- have by that time..._

The _change_ in their positions now sits entirely foreign with her, though.

_I would never have imagined a day where I might be at the girl's mercy._

Not in the sense she is now, anyway. She recognises that she had been just as much under the spell of the blonde as Emma had been under hers by the time their long ago dinner had come around. In a more carnal, _physical_ sense however, the closest it had come had been obeying the blonde when she'd instructed her to lie on the cool tiles of the kitchen floor.

 _And even_ then _she'd seemed content to accept she wasn't in charge._

Swallowing as she studies the younger woman go about piling her plate up- _no, she hasn't changed at all_ \- Regina imagines her as she is _now_ , telling her to lie down on the floor so that she can show her a 'trick' or two.

_I don't think she'd ask me as nervously as she had done._

_No, I don't think she would._

_I think she'd say it quietly, almost casually, with only the slightest hint in her eyes- and a sly flash of her teeth- to suggest I would do well to listen, however much it might go against my general preferences._

Nodding when Emma pulls her from furthering the fantasy with a compliment on her cooking, she smiles and informs pleasantly

"Just one of my many talents."

"Oh, man."

The blonde chokes on a mouthful of greens.

"Hmm?"

The brunette asks, raising a brow haughtily.

"I mean... Oh yeah?"

Emma tries, appropriating an extravagant pantomime of polite sincerity. Rolling her eyes, Regina chuckles as she spears a potato onto her fork, not buying into the blonde's attempt at Lady's Who Lunch for a second.

"Why be modest when you know you excel?"

"... Huh... I guess that's a fair question. I've just never met anyone who said something like that before and genuinely believed they _meant_ it."

The blonde admits, but she does so with a curious smile rather than any ill intent and the Mayor contemplates her wine thoughtfully as she feels a small wave of affection followed by the realisation of why she's invited Emma over in the first place.

Remembering the hellishly flawed attempts at flirting Emma had bombarded her with when they'd first met, she takes a deep breath and prepares to return the favour; relying on the fact that she at least possesses a little more _finesse_.

"You know... I know I am guilty for prying, but what's done is done, and I have to say- I must commend you on your, well _, sneakiness_ , Miss Swan."

"I'm sneaky?"

_Oh, yes._

"Your profile on that silly site you were on earlier. More specifically, the main image. It was a very well thought out choice, dear. Very attractive, but then, as we have fumbled and stumbled over these past few days, I believe you _know_ I think you're attractive... And chosen with such devilish _intent_."

"Huh?"

Emma asks, struggling to processes the first half of what Regina's come out and said and meeting the darker woman's eyes feeling slightly stunned.

"Well, you know. The hidden implications. You chose well. I imagine that image has people imagining just what you wanted to have them imagining."

"Yeah? What, uh... What's that?"

"Oh come. _You_ chose it. Don't act all innocent."

"...Who are you to say if it's an act?"

_Oh, Emma, in this context I know more than enough..._

"Hm?"

"Enlighten me on what it is you think I wanted them to think..."


	24. Chapter 24

_"Enlighten me on what it is I wanted them to think..."_

Emma prompts, and Regina can tell that the blonde is doing her best to keep her face expressionless as she has yet to decide the nature of the game.

"Well, dear. I _believe_ you wanted them to think about fucking you."

A splutter at this as the younger woman takes a hasty sip of her wine and struggles to swallow it down. Placing her glass back down and raising her eyes slowly to meet fiery dark coals, she attempts to regain her composure and asks quietly

"What about you?"

"...What _about_ me, Miss Swan?"

"Are you saying you... Uh... Are you saying you were affected?"

"You sound surprised."

Regina muses, and any disinclination she might usually suffer when it comes to fouling her tongue is swiftly appeased as she can see how the word has hit its mark. There is a time and a place for crass language, and right now, she'd say it's had the desired effect. Emma studies her intently, and the way her pupils have dilated to allow only the thinest rim of cool green is both wonderfully familiar and excruciatingly exciting.

"I just... I kind of thought... I thought you were messing around."

Emma stammers, and painted lips stretch to show dangerous teeth as the brunette cocks her head and purrs

"Messing around how?"

"Well. I mean. Some of the things you've said have been pretty suggestive... But then when I called you on it, you... I didn't think you..."

"You didn't think I liked what I saw?"

"You said you found me abrasive. Moody."

"Well, that _does_ sound about right. But, that doesn't mean I've been rendered blind."

"So... the picture on my profile. You really thought about... Well..."

Licking her lips as her eyes glitter with amusement, the Mayor allows herself just a moment longer of watching the blonde attempt to string her words together before interrupting sweetly

"More wine?"

"Uh..."

Emma looks down at her glass which is still relatively full, before looking back up at the brunette thoughtfully, trying to weigh up her options here.

"Sure."

She agrees eventually in a low voice, and Regina nods as she takes the younger woman's glass along with her own and disappears into the kitchen, leaving Emma sat stunned as she plays her fingers over the intricate place mat beneath her plate and trying to wrap her head around things. She is admittedly surprised by Regina's openness, and _more_ than a little intrigued! Still, this seems like yet another giant step into a whole different crazy direction on this queer little trip into the forests of Maine, and she can't help but think back on the illustration that had thrown her so badly when she'd been presented with its impossible suggestion, and thinking that it must be no mistake it had depicted a scene straight out of Wonderland.

"We're all mad here."

She murmurs beneath her breath, wondering briefly if she's making a mistake fooling around- _a little presumptuous, Swan!_ \- with the enemy.

_And, besides- 'enemy'? No, not the enemy. The boss._

"Those two are usually the same thing."

She mutters, and she smirks as she tries to imagine what Ellen Major might say if asked on her thoughts about the, ah, 'fuckability' of her most irritating employee. The idea amuses the blonde greatly, as well as causing her to shudder. She has partaken in drinks with the formidable bail bonds agent just the once, at a devastatingly uncomfortable Christmas celebration a year ago, and even after several glasses of wine and a generous helping of various shots, she'd found herself blearily contemplating harsh silver shadow and obnoxiously dark lip liner with poorly disguised distaste. Ellen herself had made a comment later on in the evening pertaining to her honest opinion of the blonde, but her snide remark on how coquettish the rogue troublemaker had become with alcohol hadn't really been the sort to suggest any hidden desire to try the goods for herself.

"Thank heavens for that!"

Emma chuckles, before looking up when Regina appears in the doorway with a brow raised curiously.

"Are you talking to yourself?"

She smirks, and she remembers the way Emma had shown quite a habit for doing so many years ago.

"Only a little."

The blonde shrugs, and the Mayor says no more on the matter, but rather beckons her guest into the drawing room with the low invitation of

"I thought we might take this some place a little more comfortable."

Resisting the urge to snigger at this well known line from any cheesy movie, Emma pushes herself from the table and follows her host obediently, raising a brow as she notes the fire flickering in the hearth upon entering the cosy room they'd shared their cider in not too long ago, and waiting to see what Regina has planned.

Leaving the blonde standing uncertainly at the threshold, the darker woman walks over to one of the small sofas and places her wine on the coffee table that stands between lush upholstery and its twin opposite. She places Emma's freshly filled glass to the side of her own, and the younger woman ponders this curiously before stalking over.

Taking heed of the silent suggestion given by the placement of the glasses, she takes a seat beside the brunette, careful to maintain some space between them, but crucially aware of the connection that exists just the same. She leans forward to reach for her glass; wanting something to occupy her hands to keep from fidgeting restlessly.

_Keep your cool._

Hell, she's _trying_ to! She reminds herself that it is _her_ picture the darker woman has admitted to find interesting, and that really she should push for the upper hand here and play hard to get. Ordinarily, this isn't a problem; she is reserved and not especially at ease in herself when alone, but none of that really matters in the way this _usually_ goes. She has a knack for reading people, and has always understood that what _she_ might think of herself is irrelevant when it comes to the carnal attention of another. Regina had been right about the picture- she had meant to instil one very simple urge with it- and all internal reservations and hang ups aside, she knows that what she has on the _outside_ does just what she needs it to. She's heard it worded harshly countless times, most often by those who've fallen for the resultant trap. She's heard it all. And, she wonders sometimes what the idiots would say if they knew the reality of her social, hell, _sexual_ life (or lack of it), but really, at the end of the day, she should take their foul words and angry sentiment as a job well done, because the fact of the matter- as Regina has implied- is that she knows she has one thing going for her.

People- a _lot_ of people- would really like to fuck her.

_So play it how you always do..._

She scolds herself, sipping delicately at her wine and sweeping her hair coyly to lay over her shoulder. Easier said than done though; she can't remember the last time being around someone made her this _nervous_!

 _That's because it's not usually a_ mutual _thing..._

No. It's usually strictly business. An implied promise she's fully aware she has _no_ intention of following through on.

_Not to mention, it's usually a game played with the perp! Not the superior calling the shots!_

"You seem tense."

Regina muses, and Emma swallows as she warns a little breathlessly

"I spend a good amount of my time on the road, you know, and staying in motels before moving in on a target. Through that, I've seen enough terrible porn to know the crappy lines before someone tries something funny..."

To her surprise, the brunette laughs at this, shaking her head and regarding the girl with her teeth nipped thoughtfully at the rim of her glass.

"Oh, I wasn't thinking of trying anything funny-"

She appeases, with a small smirk

"- _certainly_ not anything reminiscent of bad pornography."

_Yeah? What about the higher budget stuff?_

Cringing, and telling her mind to shut the hell up, Emma feigns nonchalance.

"Good."

"I tend not to _try_ anything."

Regina continues, holding the blonde's wary gaze easily and wondering if she still crosses her fingers when she's close to release.

"No?"

Emma asks, wetting her lips a little nervously as the brunette is definitely leaning in closer than she had been.

"No."

The Mayor agrees.

"I don't try. I _do_."

She reveals, and the blonde swallows as she drinks in pretty, full lips and wonders just how bad the repercussions would really be should she taste the darker woman as she'd like to.

_She'll bite my lip- not hard- just a light application on pressure; enough to remind me she sees me as hers. That she's in control. And with her, I don't mind. It's strange, but I don't mind one bit, because that's exactly how I see it too._

Frowning at this impossible knowledge, Emma shoves the chaos in her mind aside as she asks thickly

"Is that so?"

Before deciding that she can always get another job if she fucks this up, but the moment is too heavy to pass up, and leaning in.

Regina responds to the soft brush of the younger woman's lips readily, her breathing short and shuddered as her heart both soars and aches. She buries the fingers of her right hand into thick hair as she has so many times before, while her left begins a slow path up the girl's thigh before coming to rest as she remembers herself.

_Oh god, but that's hard... Hard not to just-_

Losing her train of thought with a small noise of surprise in the back of her throat, she is taken aback in the most delicious of ways when Emma deepens their kiss confidently; possessing a self-assurance that had been absent when she'd been younger. Unable to help herself, Regina digs in her nails as she increases her grip on the blonde's thigh, wanting to pull her close as she squeezes her eyes shut against the salt that mars her lashes. She fists soft gold and tries to steady her frantic heartbeat as Emma pulls back just a little and catches her breath.

Trembling as she forces her eyes open, Regina studies the blonde raptly, taking in the way the deep hue of her lipstick has coloured the girl's lips lightly red and the look of dazed shock in her eyes.

"Emma..."

"You..."

"Yes...?"

The brunette breathes, feeling as though every nerve ending in her body is on fire as she sits with her fingers still digging mercilessly into the younger woman's thigh and waiting anxiously for some form of answer.

Some form of recognition...

 _Oh, please... Please don't be angry. And if you are, just please don't_ hate _me. Please. I wanted to help you. I did everything to try and help you. Please... Please just let me explain._

_Please._

_Say something._

_For god's sake, please_ say _something!_

"Emma...?"

She pleads, aware that her throat has closed up to just the tiniest pinprick and it's getting harder and harder to breath.

"... Fuck."

The blonde states eventually, before breaking into a grin that has the darker woman furrowing her brow.

"You're really something."

Emma laughs breathlessly, leaning over for her wine with a rosy hue colouring her cheeks; oblivious as the brunette stares at her openmouthed.

Numb, and in disbelief.

"You don't... You don't remember..."

"Remember what?"

The blonde smiles, glancing down at the brunette's fingers slowly bruising her leg. Regina follows the direction of her attention and pulls her hand away swiftly.

"Sorry."

"It's ok."

Emma shrugs, studying the Mayor curiously. Frowning when the brunette seems lost in her thoughts, she prompts softly

"Hey... Are you ok?"

"I..."

The Mayor breathes, her gaze locked in with the younger woman's as green eyes dart raptly over her face.

 _You don't remember... How could you_ not _remember?!_

_What we had was..._

"Regina?"

"Yes... I'm okay..."

She replies quietly with a touch of uncertainty, watching as the girl runs her tongue across sharp teeth pensively before divulging a dark grin.

"Good."

_I don't understand. I-_

_-Oh..._

Her breath catches in her throat as the blonde pushes herself up and moves to straddle her lightly, and she finds herself losing track of her thoughts as soft lips find hers once more and her hands return to slender legs.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I went back and forth with this one on whether what happens should happen. I asked a few of you for your thoughts, and that small consensus was unanimous so I went with it. As for the repercussions of the act given Regina's state of mind, this is something that will be addressed, as I'm aware she's toeing a fine line here. Comments would be lovely! :)

Kissing the brunette slowly, Emma cups her jaw as she keeps the darker woman pinned down beneath her weight. A small voice in the back of her head tells her warily that this is a bad idea- a _terrible_ idea- and that screwing around with the boss has only lead to trouble in the past.

_This is different._

Yes, it is. In a way that she can't quite place and seems entirely out of her grasp, and so she tries to push those thoughts away in favour of _another_ kind of different. The fact that she's _doing_ this is different. Flirtation and promise generally go hand in hand with her job, and she supposes it bodes well for her that while she isn't always a dab hand at the first, she seems to naturally exude the latter. It's not something she generally _acts_ on though, and doing so now feels deliciously liberating in all the best ways. It's been a while since she worked a case involving someone she's found genuinely enticing, but she supposes Regina has surprised her again and again thus far, so it seems almost natural that they carry on their strange dance with ever increasing fire.

And hell, after the confusion of the last couple of days, and the grey slump of the last several _months_ , she's could use some release.

She's just astounded that things have gotten to the level that they have, but, if Regina takes issue with her bold progression, she's certainly going the wrong way about showing it.

Heavy panting against her lips as the brunette pulls back to catch her breath, and the bitten back noise of arousal that accompanies the act would suggest that Madame Mayor doesn't mind her current predicament at all.

Throwing all caution to the wind and deciding that the moment is one to be taken, Emma uses the small pause in their passion as an invitation to explore new territory, and she coaxes the brunette's head back gently and grazes her teeth lightly over the underside of the Mayor's jaw.

"Oh god..."

Regina chokes, her right hand once more digging bruises into the younger woman's thigh, while the left rests gently against her stomach, hesitating there for a moment, before slipping beneath soft wool and thin cotton to burn against her flesh. The warmth there is blissfully familiar, and as she allows the blonde to go back to kissing her heatedly, she is overwhelmed by the small little quirks that remind her painfully- beautifully- of the past.

_I've missed this._

A frown as Emma sits back and shakes out her hair, denying the darker woman her affection for just a moment.

A small grin and the casual removal of her sweater and top, leaving the blonde in just her bra.

A flash of hunger in dark eyes.

And a quiet gasp of surprise.

"Is this kind of what you had in mind when you were snooping?"

Emma teases, and Regina swallows as she is completely thrown by the younger woman's brazenness- and her bid for dominance- while trying to come to terms with her current view. Since they have been reacquainted she has given the girl's physique a good deal of thought; something brought on both by lust and a sense of relief that stems from a place of care. She's entertained some rather risqué ideas on how she might eventually get a better look at the pale skin she had once known so intimately well, but all of them come short compared to the real deal.

_You look good, dear. Oh yes, you look good._

She almost says so too, but she catches herself swiftly, as without context, the words would sound hollow and almost lecherous when coupled with the darkness of her want. Instead, she simply plays a part she knows well and offers the girl a derisive glare, snapping at her irritably

"I wasn't _snooping_."

"Looked like it from where I was standing."

"Well, then your current position seems a much better one."

Regina smirks, and she bites her lip as Emma circles her hips in a very promising fashion, while wondering what in the hell she's doing.

_The kiss didn't work. It didn't work, and I don't know why. I want to know, I want to help her, I want... I want..._

_Fuck. I want her._

It is more a _craving_ than a thought, and any further consideration of right and wrong is drowned out by darker concerns as the younger woman leans in with clear intent and offers her a kiss that promises nothing but sin.

These promises are swiftly met, and the Mayor's breath comes out in a choked gasp as the blonde dips her hand down between them and cups her boldly through the soft fabric of her dress. Shivering as Emma moves against her provocatively, she is unable to resist the urge, and she lets her hands roam freely over bare flesh; mapping out familiar dips and new curves as her mind reels on the brink of insanity.

_This is madness. Sweet, blissful madness. She was so held back before. So eager but so secretly shy._

There doesn't seem to be anything shy about the blonde now as the teasing squeeze of her hand becomes swiftly more shameless; leaning back to look first at where her fingers work busily against rich scarlet, before her eyes flicker back up to regard the Mayor above a cheshire grin.

_This is madness, Swan. This is totally insane. This is such a bad idea!_

If it is, she no longer cares. It _is_ madness, she supposes. But she can't seem to help the affect being around the strange brunette has on her, and she has always taken the mentality of pulling out all the stops if she's started down the road of destruction anyway. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she's a little surprised that Madame Mayor hasn't pushed her off yet with a cry of appalled indignation. As it is, Regina simply closes her eyes while grabbing a fistful of curls and invites her back to taste the low noises of content whispering from her lips.

_Just a shame about the fucking dress._

It is, but she's not about to waste her time trying to remove it. Every nerve ending in her body seems to be on fire as she moves over the darker woman- relishing the latter's increasing struggle to keep from squirming beneath her- and she knows somehow that if they pause to get more comfortable, that spark will be lost. It won't fizzle out she doesn't think, as she's beginning to come to the curious conclusion that it's existed between them all along, but it might desist its intoxicating burn for desire and give them time to think.

Right now, she doesn't _want_ to think.

She wants to do.

She wants to feel.

She wants to rid herself of all of the pent up tension being around Regina has instilled in her that doesn't quite make sense.

_That, and it's just been a fucking while!_

Smirking against full lips where rich scarlet is nothing but a ghosted memory, she tugs roughly at expensive fabric while carrying her weight on her knees momentarily, and she smiles victoriously when she gets the Mayor's dress up high enough to slip her hand beneath.

"Oh."

Comes the breathless response, and the brunette throws her head back as slender fingers slide assertively down the centre of her underwear, before damp silk gets pulled aside and Emma's teasing becomes something wicked.

Lost in a daze of pleasure, and the familiar scents- the familiar sounds- of the blonde, Regina feels herself nearing the edge with chaotic urgency. This is something she's missed, and something she's wanted for so long now, not to mention something she's occasionally fantasised about.

_Not too often, though. It hurt. I wanted it, but to think of her too long would hurt._

Broken thoughts, and her brow furrows slightly, but her mouth is open and she makes several low noises of ecstasy that remain carefully dignified despite becoming swiftly more frantic.

"Keep going."

She warns in an admirably bossy tone between laboured breaths, and the blonde laughs impishly but does as she's told; imagining that if her prim and proper attitude is anything to go by, Regina might benefit from this experience wonderfully.

Grinning mischievously, she quickens her pace and leans in as she feels the Mayor tense tellingly beneath her, and murmurs teasingly into her ear

"So, was it?"

"Was it what?"

The brunette pants as she grabs the younger woman's wrist and gives it a pointed squeeze in a silent bid of surrender from the blonde's wicked touch.

"What you had in mind?"

Emma smirks, drinking in the sordid bliss washing over elegant features and biting her lip appreciatively.

Opening eyes that had been clenched shut, Regina studies the younger woman feverishly, before shaking her head slowly with a smile.

"Not exactly."

"No?"

Emma scoffs, but for a moment, the brunette catches a hint of the girl she'd known, as behind the shit eating grin she spies a glimmer of uncertainty. Pushing the resultant wave of emotion ruthlessly aside, she shakes her head once more- this time with mischievous conviction- and goads huskily

"Most of what I had in mind would have ended in you screaming."

"Yeah? I don't scream."

The blonde informs her challengingly, and the Mayor almost allows the words 'I know' to slip from her lips.

"All the same, I think it might be more fun to find out for myself."

The brunette smirks, and the younger woman swallows as she regards her heatedly.

"You think so?"

Emma dares, stoking the fire and sweeping her hair back with a coquettish flick of her wrist. Regina watches it tumble prettily, admiring simple black lace cut invitingly low, before lowering her attention down to a purple scar below.

Perfect crescents.

The cruel brand of her teeth.

Feeling suddenly unable to breathe, she looks back up at Emma uncertainly, struggling to get a hold of herself.

_You told me you loved me. I hurt you. I marked you. I bit you. And that was when you told me that you loved me._

Feeling shaken, the brunette forces a smile; aware that the blonde watches her intently and is waiting for her to make a move.

It suddenly feels like it's all teeth.

"Hey, are you ok?"

Emma asks uncertainly, and she nods distractedly and pulls the younger woman in for a kiss to avoid having to search for a better answer.

The blonde reciprocates enthusiastically, and Regina pushes her back gently in a bid to coax her off the sofa so that she may rearrange them.

When she backs Emma down onto the sofa so that she lies prone, the younger woman moves with her willingly, grinning up at her saucily.

Dark eyes flash to the scar beneath delicate lace.

Then up at the desk in the corner.

_I know how you want it. You want it exactly the way I like to give it._

_And I think I_ could _make you scream if I wanted to._

She looks back down at Emma and the familiar tug to the younger woman's mouth that speaks of expectancy.

She looks at pale skin that had once been tanned. That had once been hers. That had once been dappled with her rage.

She looks into cool green eyes, pupils polluting the iris black with lust, but she knows that once this is over they will go back to giving the blonde away beneath her mask with their depth.

She looks down at white palms splayed up at her beside the girl's head; cushioned by long hair which fans out around her, and their fingers; slim yet strong. Fingers recently busy in the darkest and most delectable of ways, but that also produce fine, complex cursive and curious little illustrations.

"Regina?"

The blonde prompts quietly. The darker woman leans over her in a way that is entirely promising, but Regina's expression is changing and not in a way that she's comfortable with. The Mayor's eyes are kind. Caring. They're focused on her with unnerving intensity, but it is not the intense wish to _devour_ that had been there seconds before. This new, intimate look is one she doesn't trust, and she can feel her walls coming up even as she lies on her back at the brunette's mercy.

"You offer a lot more in person than what is promised by that picture."

"Thanks."

The younger woman replies, but not without a small helping of ice. She'd take the Mayor's statement as a tantalising compliment if it were uttered in the same heady tone she'd been using not five minutes ago.

Now, those words are laced with something _else_ , something soft, and she feels the compelling urge to tell the darker woman 'you don't know me'.

Because that's what it is in the Mayor's otherwise captivating stare.

Recognition.

Assumption.

Knowing.

"Are you going to fuck me?"

She asks bluntly, and the brunette blinks in surprise, before raising a brow.

"Impatient?"

"Often."

Emma agrees cooly, and she grins as some of the awkwardness between them dissipates as the Mayor laughs darkly at this and seems to get her head- _and not her fucking heart! What the hell was that?!_ \- back in the game.

"Pity."

Regina smirks, playing her fingers lightly over rough denim with no sign of helping the younger woman out with her current impatience any time soon.

It is the teasing game of cat and mouse they have always played well, and the darker woman wavers between embracing it now, or denying herself what she wants.

 _You feel guilty and you have every_ reason _to feel guilty. But something has to work, here._ Something _has to break through. It didn't happen when I kissed her. It's got to work if I make her mine again. Make her mine like I once did. It was sex, but it was_ more _than that. It brought us close, because it was something so much_ larger _for each of us. I felt the electricity strongest when she would shudder against me- trusting me- and maybe that's key. To push her over and see what truth she grabs for as she resurfaces._

Presumptive perhaps, and of course it plays into her current wishes quite nicely, but she doesn't know what else to _do_ , and right now she's willing to try everything.

_I love you. I have for years. And to have you now, lying beneath me and giving me what I've been denied for so long is so overwhelming. I've missed you. I want you._

_But mostly, dear; I love you._

"Are these as tight as they look?"

She pushes aside the chaos of her thoughts and smirks.

Grinning as she watches the brunette tackle the stiff fastenings of her jeans, Emma lifts her hips slightly so that Regina can tug the unforgiving denim down her thighs.

"Yes."

She replies simply, looking up at the darker woman with fire in her eyes, and swallowing when the brunette slides scant cotton down slender legs to reveal her entirely. She feels extremely exposed; the tension thick as everything about this feels so hatefully intimate and yet inexplicably _comfortable_ at the same time. She has never been one to find lights on, observant sex enjoyable; the vulnerability of the act going against every part of her being.

_This is okay, though._

Yes. Weird, but it is.

 _Of course it is! You've just watched the woman go over while squirming away under you. I'm pretty sure_ anything _is ok right now so long as the favour is returned swiftly!_

"What are you grinning about?"

The brunette asks curiously, and the younger woman shakes her head and appeals slyly

"Nothing. You just take your sweet time, don't you?"

Regina laughs at this and searches for a smart quip to antagonise the blonde further, but Emma plays dirty- running her fingers absentmindedly over the bare flesh of her stomach- and invites her to take up what's on offer without a second thought.

Leaning down to kiss the girl, the brunette teases her slowly; entering her for just a moment before going back to playing over slick flesh wickedly. Her kiss is slow and deep, matching the rhythm of her fingers, and she works her other hand through long hair lazily as Emma moves beneath her.

She takes her time; relishing new noises and reactions, while cherishing the ones she's missed.

"This is pretty crazy, huh?"

The blonde murmurs huskily into her hair, as the Mayor nips gently at the fragile bow of her clavicle.

"You started it."

Regina points out, and she supposes this statement is entirely true.

All those years ago, Emma had started it, too.

"You better finish it then."

Emma challenges, and the brunette laughs lightly and deepens the delicious dip of her fingers, speeding up ever so slightly and watching the quickening flutter of the blonde's ribcage.

_It's crazy indeed, dear._

A quiet, content hum that she remembers well, and she kisses the blonde fiercely while slowing her movements and waiting for the younger woman to unclench.

"...Emma?"

She asks quietly, holding her breath and waiting for the blonde to look at her.

"Mmm?"

Emma responds noncomittely, feeling blissed out but slightly uncomfortable with the way the Mayor has treated her so gently. So carefully. Now that she's come down from her high, it's something she's less sure how to deal with.

Hell. This whole _situation_ is something she's now suddenly unsure how to deal with.

"Are you... How are you?"

Regina finishes uncertainly. Green eyes narrow to study her warily, but the look that lingers behind sooty lashes is uneasiness rather than recognition.

_Why?_

_Why doesn't she... Why doesn't she remember?! How can that be?!_

The first real feelings of panic begin to settle in low in her stomach, and she doesn't pay much attention when the blonde mutters uncomfortably

"I'm fine. How are you?"

Sitting up slowly with her hands balled into nervous fists at her sides, Regina refuses the younger woman an answer as she simply looks at her; lain out and exposed without any recollection of all the times she has taken up the position before.

_I thought you'd remember. Emma, I thought I could make you remember. I wouldn't have... I wouldn't have done this if I..._

Swallowing, as the horrific idea that maybe she won't _ever_ be able to make the blonde remember- to bring her back- occurs to her in a rotten black smog, she moves out of the way woodenly as Emma swings herself around to pull her jeans back into place.

"I should go."

The blonde murmurs quietly as she throws on her sweater, and Regina glances up sharply and shakes her head

"No."

"No?"

Emma frowns, looking at the door wistfully as this whole thing just got heavy as hell, and she's not one to like dealing with the aftermath of her bad decisions.

 _And hell knows, I've made some_ really _bad decisions..._

The thought hits her like a smack in the face, as she realises it was one very _specific_ decision made many years ago now that she'd been thinking about. Something she's not thought about- something she's not _let_ herself think about- for a long time now.

_This was fun, Madame Mayor, it really was, but being here seems to be sending me slowly insane, and I'm a little afraid what might come up if it continues. I-_

"-No. You shouldn't go."

Regina interrupts her thoughts quietly, and she offers a smile.

"You _can_ go. But the moment hasn't called for it to be necessary just yet. I'm sorry if I seemed a little off for a second, there. It's just been a long time."

There's a lot more truth behind this admission than Emma could know, but it seems to do the job in relaxing her a little anyway. Some of the tension written across the blonde's face leaves and becomes softer, as the younger woman grins sheepishly and mutters

"Yeah. I get _that_."

A wave of hot glee washes over the brunette with this statement and she pushes it away firmly; pretty sure that she's blushing.

"I just hope you don't find the prospect of working with me uncomfortable now."

She admits, and to her relief Emma laughs, shaking her head

"Not if you don't. Actually, I think I just got a whole lot more invested in my work."

She grins, and the brunette pushes herself from the sofa to stand nose to nose with the younger woman, challenging her softly

"Is that a proposition?"

And her confusion and fear still exists low in her gut, but there's just something between them she can't shake. Something wonderfully moreish.

"You're the boss. Up to you I guess."

Emma shrugs with a feigned look of innocence, and the brunette smiles wickedly and leads them towards the door.

"I am."

She agrees, and she waits in the hall as the blonde tugs on her boots before showing her out.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

She purrs; affirming silently that she's okay with what's gone on here tonight.

 _More than ok... Perhaps I shouldn't be, perhaps I don't_ deserve _to be, but there is a part of me that I can't shake off that likes to get what she wants._

_For years now... That's you, dear._

"Cool."

Emma smiles, and she drinks in dark, inviting promise shielding something else. Something softer. Something terrifying, and yet...

Something so familiar.

"Night, then."

She offers, turning heel and making her way briskly down the steps.

But not before Regina catches a glimmer of uncertainty in the blonde's eyes.

Watching her go, she turns back into the house and closes the door. Stalking back into the drawing room, she studies their glasses with a frown; trying to place just what it had been she'd seen in Emma's face before she'd taken her leave.

_Maybe-_

But she is pulled from her thoughts by a low knock on the door, and she freezes for a moment- feeling both hot and cold and shivering slightly- before making her way slowly back into the hall; aware that she holds her breath in anticipation.


	26. Chapter 26

While she supposes it had been too much to hope for that it would be  _Emma_  knocking once more at her door- whether in anger or simply for one last kiss to take home and think about- she in no way would have ever guessed the identity of her late night visitor before pulling back stately wood to face them.

"Gold."

She breathes, and the pawnbroker nods with a small grin as he stands with his hands folded over the head of his cane.

"Good. You're decent."

He greets, and the brunette's brow furrows as she runs a finger guiltily to the side of her lips before adopting a more familiar stance of elegant arrogance.

"What's _that_  supposed to mean? Although, I suppose given the rude hour, it might have been a viable concern."

She snaps primly, and the little man nods once again; his smile growing ever wider to allow her a wink of his fillings.

"I suppose that would be true, had I suffered any notion that you might actually be sleeping."

His tone is playful and knowing, and Regina finds herself pulling surreptitiously at the hem of her dress; not daring to look down to see if her recent exploits have left soft crimson hellishly creased, but suspecting they have.

"What do you-"

"-I just bumped into Miss Swan while taking my nightly stroll."

"Oh... And what of it?"

She asks loftily, aware that her voice wavers ever so slightly. Shaking his head to suggest he's not buying whatever cover up she's attempting to sell him, Gold gestures towards the stately hallway the Mayor currently blocks with her slim frame, and she hesitates for a moment before stepping aside. Gritting her teeth as the pawnbroker follows her into the drawing room, she bends over to stoke the dying fire and wonders belatedly if the room smells of sex.

"She was out rather late for a tourist. Not much to see- or _do_ \- in our sleepy town."

"Yes, well, do I  _really_  need to try and explain the strange things that girl does? What with the things you claim to know? Claim to remember?"

Regina sighs as she takes up her recently vacated seat on the sofa, regarding her guest stoically as he perches opposite her.

"Oh, that Emma is a little odd I have no doubt. But that's not the part that tickled me so."

"...Why are you here?"

The brunette asks wearily, tiring of games and looking down at her empty wine glass a little wistfully. She is unable to keep a faint note of unease from her voice, and when she looks back up at her long ago mentor, his smirk softens a little as he catches the suspicious narrowing of her eyes.

"I believe you might have questions for me. Given how things worked out tonight."

"How did you...?"

"Oh. Fear not, dearie. I have no more magic in this land than you do. My knowledge doesn't derive from any sense of sorcery, but rather the combined theory of what my eyes and common sense have presented me."

"What-"

"-Yours is the only residence down this way save for the Marsten woman who lives in the wood keeper's cottage. And I would count myself genuinely  _surprised_  if our young Saviour's hair had been mussed the way it had been by Elaine. Adding that to her contented glow and the traces of your lipstick marking her jaw, I made the only logical conclusion."

"You-"

"-Congratulations. You must be happy. I know you've been waiting for her for a long time."

"Yes, well..."

Regina starts a little dazedly, before pulling herself together and throwing the little man a disdainful glower.

 _In no world, universe or_ realm _am I about to discuss my sexual exploits with any not holding a starring role themselves... Especially not the_ Dark _One!_

"We had dinner."

She finishes cooly; stating it firmly and thus making it clear she refuses to talk about anything else. Gold grins, but doesn't push her. Instead, he leaves out the reasoning for his enquiry- the clear fact that the Queen and her girl have become once more well acquainted- and simply goes on to prompt her with the real matter at hand here.

"She didn't remember, did she?"

"How-"

"-Oh, _stop_. If she had, she wouldn't have been walking around alone at night with a great big grin on her face."

"... She was grinning?"

The brunette asks with a small tick of her jaw, and the pawnbroker raises a brow but merely smirks

"She must have enjoyed 'dinner'."

A delicate blush at this, before the Mayor pushes herself up and stalks off towards the kitchen with the weary explanation thrown over her shoulder

"If we're going to do this, I need more wine."

Fetching a new bottle by the light of the moon filtering in through the large windows above the counter, she gives herself a moment as she cracks the seal. She neatens her hair blindly and rubs at the skin around her mouth to clean away any lingering tracks of her lipstick with a sigh. She can still smell a faint whisper of the blonde's perfume clinging to her dress, and she braces her palms against the cool steel of the cooker as she takes in several deep breaths to try and calm her nerves.

Walking back into the drawing room with a spare glass and the bottle of freshly uncorked merlot, she pours herself and Gold a glass and settles back against the soft cushions of the sofa with a distressed shake of her head.

"I don't understand why she doesn't  _remember..._ "

Her voice is low and devoid of the wild panic that had struck her so painfuly earlier, but her eyes say the rest, and the pawnbroker frowns as he sips from his glass with queer elegance.

"Then you have lived in a world without magic for too long, Regina. Else you would remember the  _rules_."

"True love's kiss is-"

She starts up, but she trails off as the little man shakes his head irritably.

"Regina. How can you have attempted to use true love's kiss on a woman that has known you less than a _week_?"

"I thought... She was supposed to... She-"

"-What? Was supposed to remember everything? Was supposed to come around just because your lips brushed hers?"

'... It was more than that."

The Mayor replies quietly. She hates the fact that she's having this conversation- feeling excruciatingly vulnerable- but she's confused. She's shaken up. She needs guidance, and, while she doesn't trust the little imp as far as she could throw him... He's the best offer she's got right now.

The curt nod Gold offers her suggests that the pawnbroker understands what it is she means, and he shrugs scrawny shoulders regretfully.

"To _you_  it might have been. In  _several_  senses. To Miss Swan... Nothing more than a rather curious perk of this 'job' she believes she's doing for you. That's all."

"It can't be. You don't  _know_! You-"

"-I  _do_ , though. I do, because I see it every day in this town. People with no recollection interacting with past loves on nothing but the most basic level... And I know you see it too; you see it and you regret what you did.

At least, you did before.

Back when Emma knew who you were and believed in you. Back when you wanted to be a better version of yourself.

Nowadays... I don't think you know just _what_  to make of all of this. Of your anger. Of your mistakes."

Closing her eyes as she swallows velvet wine that's bittered with salt, Regina hangs her head and laments huskily

"How could she feel  _nothing_? Remember _nothing_?... How could that be?"

"Take a step back and look at it from any perspective but your own and you will see."

"I don't-"

"-What is it that  _draws_  you to her. What is it that you yourself love about the  _Saviour_?"

"I am not discussing this with  _you_."

The brunette hisses venomously, and Gold chuckles dryly as he points out

"You can't have one thing without the other, dearie. You can't wish for explanation without doling out the facts. I assure you though, much as the thought of you and Miss Swan- darling Snow's abandoned little babe- being together in the ways you have chosen to be _fascinates_  me, I get no further pleasure from the notion than pondering over the effects it has on your power and the fate of this town. If I simply wanted something _appetising_  to think about, there are other places I could go to get it where I might receive a less hostile reception.

I have no interest in what you do to Emma- or she does to you- so long as it doesn't get in the way of my  _own_  objectives."

"Which are?"

"Right now?... Leaving you to lick your emotional wounds if you remain adamant to keep from answering my simple question: what is it you love about Emma?"

"Everything."

"... What a useless  _lie_."

Gold scolds, and dark eyes flash irritably before the brunette throws her hands up in defeat and she answers truthfully

"Alright, not  _everything_. Her language can be foul and her temper is erratic. She quite likely drinks too much and she feels too little. She puts up too many walls and nothing ever stays  _tidy_  when she's around for more than five minutes.

But she's a good person, and she saw a good person in  _me_. She's strange and she's irritating, and a lot of what she does makes absolutely no _sense_ , but that doesn't seem to _matter_  to me when it comes to her. She's kind, and she's smart, and she saw something in me that no one has in years. She told me she loved me and I didn't know at the time that anyone  _could_."

Regina shivers as the words leave her lips, not usually one to be so candid, but desperate for an answer.

For some sense of assurance.

Anything.

Just _anything_  that can ease her fear that she's somehow lost the blonde for good.

"I see."

Rumple smiles, and it is a surprisingly genuine smile, and the brunette wonders if that makes it all the more dangerous.

"And how many of those things had you ascertained within the first couple of hours of _meeting_  her?"

"I-"

"-Because that  _is_  what you are now asking from Miss Swan, Madame Mayor. You  _know_  all these things about her and why you feel the way you do because of everything that's come to pass between you. Not  _one_  of the reasons you've given me pertain to the girl's looks or her more obvious mannerisms. I am sure that you appreciate both, but while they may be key factors to your  _affection,_  they are  _not_  the cause of your  _Love_.

You look at her and you see the past.

She looks at _you_ , dearie, and looks and mannerisms are all she's got to go off.

You see her depth, and she sees only the surface. Love at first sight is a myth, even in our world I believe. At least a love with the strength to do what you now need it to now. So, you need to sit back and look at this logically. You need to sit back and ask yourself just how much you'd figured out about Emma in only a couple of hours- or even days- of knowing her. Put yourself in her position."

Regina nods, smiling sadly

"Actually, the first thing Miss Swan ever  _did_  was stand up for me. Then she insulted me. Then she ran away and abandoned me. And then she jumped from a roof to save me from a speeding car... All within two hours of knowing her."

"The Saviour saved you..."

Gold repeats, appreciating the irony and the little ditty is creates. Smirking when the Mayor throws him an irritable glower as she reads his mimicry as mockery, he holds up a weathered hand to appease her and points out seriously

"Why the annoyance? You may have just stumbled across your first real answer to all of this."

"How's that?"

"Think about it, dearie. It is much easier to _feel_  something for someone when they court your heart rather than your head. At least in the ways that matter when it comes to the trickiness of magic. If you want Emma to feel anything more than carnal desire for you, perhaps try and capture her heart rather than her breath. Give her cause to trust you. The way you started to trust her when she helped you."

"...Are you suggesting I choreograph a reason to save her?"

"Not directly. I believe the _insinuation_  was flawless, however."

"She'd be mortified! Women like Emma don't  _want_  to be saved."

Regina rolls her eyes disdainfully, and the little man laughs appreciatively before wagging a gnarled finger at his long ago student.

"It takes one to know one. You once had a  _similar_  attitude if you remember..."

"And look where it got me."

"I am. I'm looking right now. It got you here. Women like Emma don't want to  _need_  saving, because they can't accept the risk of trusting someone to pull through and actually do so.

Women like Emma need to know that they can save themselves.

That doesn't always mean that they  _can_."

"Are you suggesting I put her in  _danger_?!"

"Danger? No. Not truly. I'm  _suggesting_  that you reciprocate the kind act of stepping between Miss Swan and an unpleasant situation.

You might surprise her.

After all, it worked on _you_."

* * *

Rolling over onto her side to frown at the door, Emma almost dismisses the low noise she'd thought she'd heard as her imagination, before the dull knock sounds again.

Glancing over at the clock on the nightstand, she pulls a disgusted face at the early hour, before peeking beneath the covers to check on her state of attire. Black shorts and a flimsy vest that does little to hide much of anything. Supposing that it might be the young Waitress and not the Mayor that waits patiently outside, she reaches out for the grey sweatshirt that pools on the floor and slings it on to give herself a touch more decency.

"Yeah?"

She calls, ruffling her fingers roughly through bed-mussed hair and hoping that if _is_  Regina that she's into that kind of thing.

She smirks.

_Wouldn't be the first time of playing someone's bit or rough._

Green eyes flash with the memory of blossoming bruises and silk bed ties before appropriating a cool and collected expression to better impress the Mayor.

As it turns out, she needn't have bothered.

"Can I come in?"

Henry peeks around the door and waits hesitantly in the threshold, and Emma raises a brow in surprise before nodding a little awkwardly.

"I guess. What's up?"

She asks, sitting up properly and pulling away a little as the boy helps himself shamelessly to a seat on the end of her bed. He studies her intently and she swallows, not especially great with kids and so not knowing if his apparent habit of doing this is normal or as weird as it feels.

"Did you want something?"

She prompts, and Henry pushes away the unintentional sting of her words and smiles.

"I don't have school today."

"Oh. Okay. Cool?"

She offers uncertainly. Now that she's up, she really needs to pee, and she wants to jump in the shower and brush her teeth as her mouth is dry with last night's wine.

She just hopes she isn't blushing.

"Do you want to hang out?"

"I..."

She frowns; stumped by this question. She considers asking him why in the hell her would  _want_  to, as she doubts they have a similar taste in beer or gore movies, before telling herself sternly to quit it. She may not know  _much_  about them, but she would guess that kids don't generally come soliciting the company of strangers when they have better options to keep them amused. The kid is most likely lonely, and this is something she supposes they  _do_  have in common.

"Where's your mom?"

"Meetings."

Henry sighs, before cocking his head earnestly and pushing hopefully

"So?"

"... Yeah... Sure. Just let me get dressed."

"You do know it's half past nine already?"

The boy asks in a tone that reminds Emma of his mother.

"I do  _now_."

She replies smartly, and Henry grins, watching as the blonde makes a show of pushing away the blankets with an audible groan.

"You sleep in shorts?"

He asks curiously, and she throws him a warning look that suggests he might like to back off a little and at least let her put her damn contacts in before interrogating her.

"Only to hide my true identity."

She agrees solemnly, and he laughs, before frowning as she pushes herself from the bed.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That sound? Didn't you hear it?"

"Oh."

She sighs, placing her palms on the mattress and giving it a small shake. A low knocking sound accompanies the action and she shrugs.

"I don't know. I noticed it the first night, but there's nothing under there... Now do you want to give me some privacy?"

"Sure."

Henry nods, not budging as the blonde stalks towards the bathroom. Rolling her eyes, she detours for her jacket which hangs over the back of a chair in the window and pulls out a couple of notes.

"Here. Go wait downstairs and get yourself a drink. Mine's a hot chocolate."

"Cool."

He grins, and she pulls a face that suggests she's yet to be convinced about that, before disappearing into the bathroom and locking the door.

Henry jumps down from the bed and heads towards the hallway, before turning back with a thoughtful expression and dropping to his knees in front of the bed. Ducking his head beneath the fussy lace trim encircling the bed frame, he peers into the darkness in search of the source of the knocking noise, but finds only shadows.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the wait. This last week has been a bit shitty. More to come sooner than the last break I hope! Hope you enjoy, and reviews would be awesome :)

Slipping through the door connecting the Diner to the stairs leading up to the guest rooms, Emma tucks in her shirt and scans the bustling booths for the Mayor's kid. She feels a low pang of trepidation at the prospect of spending an unknown amount of time with the young boy- completely clueless on what they might find to talk about- but supposes that for a ten year old brat, he doesn't seem too bad.

"Emma!"

She turns towards the corner housing an incredibly hokey jukebox and grins as Henry beckons her over eagerly; wiggling in his seat with the exaggeration of his gestures.

"Hi."

She greets with a curt nod, sliding into the booth opposite him and reciprocating his ear to ear grin with a small smile of her own. Looking down at the generously sized mug in front of her, she raises a brow

"You asked for cinnamon on this?"

"Was that wrong?"

Henry asks nervously, and she shakes her head and swipes her finger through fluffy whipped cream to appease him.

"Nope. It's how I like it, it's just that a lot of people don't."

"Oh, well I thought you must do, given that I do and my mom doesn't."

"Yeah?"

Emma asks curiously, not entirely sure how _that_  little equation works itself out, and thoroughly stumped when the kid blushes and tells her it doesn't matter.

"So, what do you usually do on the weekends, then? Wouldn't you rather go out and play with your friends?"

She asks in what she hopes is a kind and inquisitive tone ( _and not too hopeful_ ). Henry sighs, slurping at his hot chocolate childishly before shaking his head.

"I don't really have any friends."

He says it mildly, as though this is more a fact than a burden to him, but still the blonde swallows as she looks down uncomfortably. The statement 'every kid has friends' is on the tip of her tongue, and it is something she assumes normally to be the case, but she supposes she has experienced the truth Henry seems to be facing first hand and so simply shrugs slim shoulders apologetically.

"That's too bad. You must not have many nice kids in your class? Every kid should have friends."

She rewords her previous thought, and the boy mimics her shrug as he laments

"I'm just different."

"Yeah?"

"Very."

He nods, wondering what Emma would say if she only knew the half of it. As it is, the blonde wrinkles her nose and searches as deep within herself as she will generally allow when dealing with others.

"There's nothing wrong with that. I was always different, too. Still am, I guess. But you get used to it, and there will be some kids out there that get used to _you_. I never had a whole lot of friends, and I turned out fine."

She finishes gruffly, and Henry looks up at her, surprised. He may only be ten, and not quite old enough to have a great many thoughts about the girls in his class, but he has been raised by Regina alone, and he knows the difference between an attractive woman and a simple 'adult'. He knows his mother is attractive, and he knows that this is one of the factors that plays into the people in her life- Sydney, the Sheriff, some of the other members on the town committee- enjoying her company. No mean feat given the fact that she also happens to be the Evil Queen (and often carries herself in such a way at times when not in the house). Studying Emma- something that still seems so odd and so  _indulgent_  to him- he would deem her to be pretty. Not quite like Regina, not so well kept and elegant and perfect as his mother, but more like a character in a book or film. She has the pretty storybook hair and fine proportions of a princess, and he would have thought that this would bring with it many people clamouring for her attention.

Smirking as his thoughts of royalty are interrupted by another swipe of the blonde's finger through thick cream and a childish display of licking herself clean, he grins at her and asks curiously

"Weren't you lonely?"

She halts in her courtship of her hot chocolate and studies the kid warily. She knows that she should correct his wording. She should point out not only  _was_  she lonely, but she often still _is_  lonely. Supposing that he's asking her in the context of whether she cares or not, she deliberates pensively before shaking her head.

"Not really. Mostly I just wanted to read, anyway."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Oh. Well, I don't know. A bit of everything."

"Did you read anything with magic in it?"

"Like Harry Potter, you mean?"

"... Kind of... Do you like that stuff? Magic stuff?"

Henry enquires eagerly, and the blonde pulls a face as she studies her drink to avoid his hopeful gaze. She still feels weird about the way this kid looks at her; she feels a little like a specimen. Scrutinised.

_That's ridiculous, Swan, he's ten, and doesn't know anything about you._

Thinking back to the events of last night with the boy's mother, she swallows, striving to think of an answer to his question before her mind takes her off on an entirely different delicious and inappropriate tangent altogether.

It's hard, though. She knows it shouldn't be- she should just tell Henry 'yes, that kind of thing is alright, I guess' and be done with it- but she supposes telling him so would be a lie. She  _had_  liked books about magic. About wonderful alternate worlds and strange creatures and curious powers. She  _had_. She'd liked all that kind of stuff until she'd almost felt that she was living in a crazed storybook herself. She'd liked it right up until she'd received the note.

_The fucking note!_

The note and the money that made life good- made it great!- for a couple of days, before the swanky hotel she'd booked a room in had delivered a complimentary paper to her door. A paper dated September 21st. And that had been when she'd had to stop pretending. That had been when she'd dropped the champagne bottle in her hand onto the cool tile floor of the luxury suite- scaring Cass who she had snuck in with her much to her glee- and stood frozen and ashen-faced amongst fractured shards. That had been when all of the laughing and exuberance she'd allowed since waking up confused and alone in a hotel in Maine-  _and fatter, let's not forget fucking fatter, and in clothes I'd never seen before_ \- had come to an abrupt end. Because it could no longer be explained as a crazy forgotten night. A crazy fucked off her face weekend.

No. This had been a crazy  _month_.

_A little over that..._

A crazy month. Missing. A month completely  _missing_  from her memory.

A month that she can't explain. Can't account for.

A missing portion of time- of life- like something out of a fucking science fiction novel.

Like magic.

_No one believed me..._

She almost says it to the boy. Almost allows the hysteria that had clouded the weeks following the broken glass in the fancy hotel suite to show on her face.

She's a good actress, though. She has to be. Because there are some things beneath the surface that need to be kept hidden. Kept secret. There are some things that it does you only harm to express openly and let the scavengers pick apart.

_Like hyenas. Laughing, like hyenas. Like-_

"-Emma?"

She blinks, letting out a low, shuddering breath and loosening her grip on the shiny vinyl seat covers to allow the blood to slowly return to her knuckles.

"I mainly like true crime, I guess."

She answers woodenly, and Henry sighs as he can tell that there's a hell of a lot more to her answer than the few words that escape her lips. Perking up a little when she wrinkles her nose in the face of the silence between them and brings up the topic of Wolverine once again, he launches into a debate on comic book heroes gladly, completely engrossed in the blonde's opinions- and watching her divulge them, it's weird, so  _weird_ , to be sat opposite her and finally get to talk to her- and so missing the door to the Diner open and close and Regina slip into the vibrant buzz of the place.

* * *

Regina stands just inside the Diner as she scans the room for Henry. She supposes she might be a little early- the boy usually coming to meet her on a Saturday for a treat before they make their way home- but doesn't mind as it will give her a chance to look over the minutes from her meeting.

_Not that any of it should matter anymore before too long. Hopefully._

No, hopefully not. Hopefully this entire charade will finally be over.

She'd made a stop on her way here- her teeth clenched and her fingers trembling a little while setting everything up- and she has not quite lost the anxious fluttering in her stomach as she hopes- wishes- that she's doing the right thing.

Spotting Henry and his surprising company, she feels as though her heart stops in her chest for just a moment.

_Oh._

The sight of the boy and the blonde is like a punch in the gut, and she is unsure what part of the scene she plays unobserved witness to hurts the most; seeing Henry with Emma and feeling a small inkling of fear at the prospect of the blonde interrupting their lives.

Or the much  _bigger_  fear that she  _won't_.

Swallowing as she watches Henry slip a book out of his bag to show his curious companion, her breath catches in her throat, but then she realises it is just one of his exercise books from school, and he hands it to Emma along with a pen, and she flips over to one of the back pages in order to draw something. Henry leans across the table with his eyes flickering raptly between flourishing ink and soft curls, and the brunette stalks slowly closer until she stands behind the younger woman and is able to peer over her shoulder.

"A little macabre, no?"

She muses, and she smirks as Emma jumps, resisting the urge to rest her hand on the blonde's shoulder in a way that seems so natural to her.

"It's for protection."

The blonde shrugs, turning back to her drawing and tapping the pen over the wooden sword she has given to the smaller of the two characters on the page.

"I see. I meant more the snakes for hair... That's you, is it?"

Regina sighs, and Emma grins as she mutters

"For  _protection,_  I told you..."

Much to Henry's glee.

"Emma's drawing us as X-men."

He explains to his mother, who rolls her eyes in a way she feels is probably expected of her and slides into the booth beside her son.

"I thought you were going to meet a friend?"

She asks, looking over at Henry, and he shrugs, his attention glued on the final touches to the younger woman's drawing.

"I was. I came to find Emma."

He explains, and the blonde glances up with a small blush and exchanges a strange look with the Mayor.

"I don't mind."

Emma appeases awkwardly, and the brunette suffers a small urge to snap at the girl that she should damn well hope not, before she pushes it hastily aside and applies a seamless smile.

"She was in bed."

Henry continues, not catching the loaded tension emanating from Regina, and his tone of amused disbelief finally garners him a more relaxed chuckle from the Mayor as the blonde frowns defensively.

"It's the weekend."

"She wears shorts in bed."

The kid elaborates, and green eyes flicker up to shoot an irritable glance at Henry, before she catches the sinful smirk his mother has adopted and she hastily reverts her attention back to her shading while a small grin plays at the corner of her lips.

"Is that so?"

Regina asks silkily, and Emma allows a small, noncommittal shrug, whilst wondering what Madame Mayor might have made of her rather sheer top that had been part of the original ensemble.

"The usual?"

They are interrupted by Ruby, who takes in the strange trio sat before her curiously. She is still a little surprised that Regina seems to be choosing to spend time with the blonde; having found herself queerly fond of their only boarder in the short time she has gotten to know her, but not imagining her to appeal to the Mayor's refined taste.

"Well, it seems Henry might have already indulged..."

Regina hesitates, but the boy pushes his empty mug towards the waitress with a smile and assures the brunette that he can manage another. Shaking her head with feigned despair, the Mayor gestures over at the blonde after ordering herself a cappuccino and the boy a refill.

"What about you, Miss Swan. Can _you_  manage seconds?"

She allows a small hint of a smile as she says it- unable to help herself- and she swallows as Emma nips her lip in response- clearly thinking what she's thinking- before long curls tumble as the girl shakes her head.

"Better not. I'd love a coffee though."

"That will be all."

Regina nods at the waitress dismissively, before watching Henry watching Emma and sighing quietly.

"Henry, I'd like you to go and meet Johanna at the florists after this. I have some business to discuss with Miss Swan."

"You do?"

"You do?"

The blonde and the kid answer almost in unison, and the brunette bites the inside of her cheek, before displaying her teeth in a convincing smile.

"Yes, dear."

She directs at Henry, waiting as Ruby comes back with their drinks, and indulging the other two with polite conversation as she watches the blonde finish her coffee, shortly followed by the boy.

"Do you know what Jo's making for dinner?"

Henry asks as he wipes his hands on the napkin Regina holds out to him and slides past her as she moves to let him out the booth.

"Not a clue, why?"

"Well, if she's not already planned something, maybe she can cook something that Emma can-"

"-We'll see, kid."

Emma interrupts awkwardly, and Henry blushes but offers her a grin as he leaves them to it with a small pat of his mother's shoulder.

"Sorry..."

The blonde offers when the boy has taken his leave, and she shrugs when Regina raises a brow at her curiously.

"For what?"

"I don't mean to sound rude turning down dinner, I just... I figured maybe I'd see what you thought about that first."

She explains a little uncomfortably, and Regina nods as her eyes fall to the way the younger woman has left the top two buttons of her shirt undone.

"Well. I wouldn't be opposed, dear. First, though... I'd like you to come with me. I have something I'd like to show you."

"Ok. Cool."

Emma agrees pleasantly, and she follows suit as the darker woman slips from the booth and heads for the door, not seeing the wave of anxiety that touches pretty, defined features, before Regina reclaims her composure and offers her a smirk as she turns back to face her while holding open the door.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Enjoy :) Please review :) (also sorry for the cliffhanger- but not too sorry!- I have some fence fixing that needs to be done before my dog decides to roam free, so this was cut short. Possibly the second bit up tonight :) or tomorrow)

Regina leads them down Main Street, before taking a left onto a smaller path past the empty schoolyard that veers off towards the woods. She waits for Emma to ask her where they're going, but the blonde seems happy to simply allow herself to be led to her fate with no questions asked.

"I'm sorry that Henry seems to have barged in on you this morning."

She offers with a small smirk, attempting to calm her nerves as they enter the long shadows cast by the trees.

"It's ok. He's a pretty cool kid."

Emma shrugs, and the brunette swallows but strives to keep her smile.

"He could have waited until you were decent, at least."

She sighs, and it's the blonde's turn to grin as she regards the Mayor coyly and assures

"Fortunately, I'd grabbed my hoody when he knocked."

"I see... Pyjamas not your style?"

"Why the intrigue?"

Emma teases with a pink flash of her tongue, and Regina shrugs and replies brazenly

"I just want to know what I'm working with."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"Well, I was wearing a top, it just wasn't all that appropriate... Didn't leave much to the imagination."

She winks.

"And the shorts?"

"What about them?"

"Were they a little more demure?"

"Hmm... As demure as high cut gym shorts are ever going to be, but still a step in the right direction."

She laughs, and Regina joins her huskily and goads flirtatiously

"What a shame. Here  _I_  was hoping you wouldn't wear  _anything_."

It's a sleazy line and it feels odd on her tongue, but it serves to keep the air between them light and playful, and Emma off her guard. The distant memory of the younger woman slipping into her bedroom and dropping her robe flashes momentarily in her mind, but she pushes it away swiftly before she can dwell on the hours prior to that little scenario, and the state she'd found the girl in when she'd run back to Boston. She suffers a small downwards twitch at the side of her mouth, but her bright gaze remains trained on the healthy young woman stalking beside her, and hateful memories are replaced by the private urge to embrace the blonde fiercely and tell her that she's proud of her.

"Only when I've had a bit too much to drink."

Emma interrupts her thoughts, and she raises a brow and retraces their previous conversation.

"I'm sorry?"

"I only sleep naked if I'm tipsy and can't be assed to find something to wear. Otherwise, I don't like the thought of not being able to make a swift exit."

The younger woman explains dismissively, and the brunette finds herself unsurprised by this small revelation and the deeper reasoning behind it.

She imagines Emma keeps a bag with any important personal documents by her front door. Probably hung or slung close to a pair of sensible boots and her hideous jacket.

Just in case.

She tries to remember if she'd spied anything to confirm this theory back in the younger woman's apartment, but she'd been too busy drinking in the girl herself.

"I suppose in the event of a fire or something of that nature, sleeping nude might prove detrimental."

She muses lightly, and Emma nods with a small smile and curious glances at the thickening trees.

"Where are we going?"

She asks finally, and the brunette looks over her shoulder and makes it a good fifty metres back to the main path. Fifty metres of unexplained woodland that the blonde has accompanied her through with no questions asked. She supposes Emma might be of the mentality that she doubts she needs to fear any harm or ill intent from a woman so recently writhing beneath her, but the thought still sits sourly with her nonetheless. She knows it shouldn't. Knows that now that the younger woman has grown up- hell, is only a few years shy of her _own_  projected age- she needs to drop the intense need to watch out for her, but it's hard. She'd been adamant when telling Gold that Emma is not the sort of woman to appreciate anyone suffering the need to feel responsible over her, but there are ticks and quirks the blonde exhibits now that belong to a girl that had needed any saving she could get. There is a deep need in the Mayor's heart to make sure that Emma comes to no harm so fierce it hurts. Stings.

Almost like the sharp rapport of a riding crop.

Shivering, Regina maintains her composure and points in the vague direction they're headed.

"There are some fields and a farmhouse up ahead."

"Oh."

Emma frowns, before, trustingly;

"Ok."

Offering a tight smile, Regina leads them onwards.

_You continue to be so carelessly accepting... Do you have any idea how frustrating that is for others around you?!_

She sighs, supposing that in the blonde's current line of work, this is probably seen as a positive thing. Her willingness to go along with things and accept possible adverse outcomes would seem like it would be key... It's just irritating.

 _True, but let's not forget that you're_ counting _on that foolishness now._

Swallowing as they leave the shroud of the trees to enter the fields below the old, vacant house that oversees the land, she returns the curious smile Emma offers her with a strained version of her own. She is aware that the blonde studies her out the corder of her eye with ill-hidden appreciation, and she can't help but think back to the last time they'd been up at the old farmhouse, and the small noises of content the girl had whimpered into her ear.

_Well, if all goes to plan, perhaps we can make similar plans soon._

It's a loaded thought- tainted- as she has no _idea_  how Emma will eventually react to the truth, but she doubts sordid trysts against old stone will be top on the list of order of business.

 _Let's just_ get _to that point, and_  then _worry about such things._

"Why are you taking me up here?"

Emma asks- finally- and from the slight lilt to her tone, Regina surmises that perhaps the blonde's thoughts aren't too far removed from her own. Adopting a knowing smile, she tilts her jaw towards the crumbling hunk of stone atop the hill and explains a little wistfully

"We once met up in the farmhouse there, and on another occasion in this field. Up in the house, things were wonderful. In the field, they were hard. We had a hard conversation out here... It was an _important_  conversation, though. An important and needed conversation had stood out here under the threat of rain. One of the last before things went wrong. One of the last before she saw another side to me."

"...Alice?"

Emma asks presumptively. She is no less curious about the situation and the elusive girl she has come here to seek than she had been when this whole crazy journey started. She knows that the name she uses is wrong, but as she has yet to be offered an alternative, she humours the brunette in her queer dance along the knife's edge of reason. She supposes- given what transpired between them in the Mayor's drawing room- that she should feel awkward in her current mission, but it is simply not the way her mind works. She is intrigued by the ghost of the girl she hunts rather than threatened by her. Jealous of her.

_Will you still feel that way if you succeed, and you watch Madame Mayor here melt for her?_

Yes. She will. She knows she will. She'll simply accept her payment, wish the brunette well, and move on.

Leave the darker woman's life as seamlessly as Regina entered her own.

It's how this works.

How  _she_  works.

It's simply in her nature.

"Alice."

Regina nods in response to her hesitant enquiry, and she sighs when Emma looks over at her and prompts delicately

"When you say things went wrong, what do you mean? Did you-"

"-I hurt her."

"Oh... Did you cheat on her or something?"

Emma asks, silently broaching the question once again of what the exact nature of the Mayor's relationship had been. Regina looks over at her, genuinely surprised, before shaking her head and making a gesture with her hand that brushes away the notion with haughty disgust.

"No... I hurt her."

"Ok."

"I... I couldn't be the version of myself that I needed to be."

She explains ruefully, aware that this cryptic answer holds more weight than she knows how to deal with, and a little perturbed when Emma nods and claims to understand.

"Yeah. I guess I get that. I get told that a lot."

"Told what?"

"That I'm not giving enough of myself or whatever. Not being the 'me' people want me to be."

"Hmmm."

Regina replies noncommittally. She's unwilling to challenge Emma on her actual lack of understanding of the matter for fear of entering dangerous territory, and sour at the thought of the blonde with another.

"Do you-"

"-Come on. Let's keep going."

She dismisses the topic briskly, and Emma shrugs and hurries her pace to match the Mayor's.

Leading them onwards, Regina slips her hand into the pocket of her coat and presses a key on her phone, before beckoning the younger woman through a small gap in the wall and onto the land belonging to the farmhouse. Falling behind ever so slightly, she encourages Emma to continue with a breathless assertion of

"This is the place, right through there..."

Before hanging back and holding her breath.

She counts to three, and then the blonde slips from view around the side of the courtyard wall.

Steady footsteps becoming suddenly scuffled.

A yelp.

A grunt.

And then a whole flurry of scattered stones and broken expletives.

_Damn it, I thought I made it clear how this was supposed to go!_

The Mayor curls her fists in her pocket, before gathering herself and stalking swiftly around the corner to play her part, only to be confronted by a scenario she hadn't quite anticipated.

"What the hell are you _doing_!?"


	29. Chapter 29

_"What the hell are you doing?!"_

Regina cries, before hurrying over to where the blonde and her aggressor scrap viciously in the dust.

"Stop that!"

She demands breathlessly, managing to get a hold of the squirming woman's waist and pulling her up and off of her assailant.

"What... What are you... ?"

She trails off, looking from Emma- who pulls herself briskly free from her grip and brushes herself off with an irritable huff- down to Sydney, who lies curled up and dazed with white dust streaking his suit. The reporter's nose gushes bright scarlet down over his jaw and shirt collar, and the Mayor purses her lips as he pulls his knees up into his chest in a pathetically childlike pose.

"What did you even  _want_ , asshole?"

Emma grumbles, and the brunette has to give her credit for the fact that she follows this angry demand with extending her hand down to the man lying in the dust. Sydney eyes the hovering appendage warily, before allowing the blonde to pull him to his feet. No sooner is he up when she has him backed against the wall with her previously kind hand fisting his tie, and he regards her nervously before risking a panicked glance over at the Mayor. Rolling her eyes, Regina huffs irritably- her plan completely ruined, and struggling for a swift answer to save herself any further trouble- before marching up behind the blonde and pulling her back. The look Emma throws her is one of tentatively controlled aggression, and for a moment the brunette sees the side of the girl that will have paid for her nice, fashionable apartment and expensive liquor. It is a dangerous look- warning- and Regina hesitates for a second as she tries to recall why that dark fire seems familiar, before it dawns on her that it is the look Emma had offered her when she'd brandished the whip.

"Leave him."

She orders, keeping a sudden wave of disconcertion from her tone, and the blonde frowns, but does as she's told.

"He rushed me."

She points out, offering the brunette a brief glance, but otherwise keeping her attention distrustfully trained on the sorry looking man sagging against the weather-pitted wall.

"...Did you?"

Regina asks Sydney blandly, and his watering eyes fix onto hers reproachfully as he strives to find an answer that will please the dark woman who had set him up to this whole unfortunate adventure in the first place. Saving him the trouble, the Mayor sniffs dismissively, stepping between Emma and the reporter with a curious display of grace and addressing the younger woman calmly

"Apologies, dear, for the local lush. The man is a mess, and I will make sure he is dealt with. He is not normally a cause for concern, but rather a sad breed of pity."

She shakes her head, while behind her, Sydney's cheeks flare scarlet as the brunette's words sting, whether uttered to cover up her strange plot or not. It has always pained him to be seen as less than his best in Regina's eyes.

"Well, what's he doing lurking around up  _here_?"

Emma grumbles, shooting the strange man an accusing glower as she inspects her knuckles for damage. Sydney watches the blonde go about this task sourly, swallowing a wave of bitter rage and tasting slick blood.

"Well?"

Regina demands, regarding him expectantly, and he sighs- feeling that old, familiar urge to resist the Mayor in her unfair games to use him as she sees fit, and pushing it away as he always does- before regarding the woman stood beside his wonderful tormentor solemnly.

"I'm sorry."

He offers, and the blonde raises a brow, but ultimately responds with a casual shrug of slim shoulders. The knees of her jeans are lightly scuffed with grit, but she seems otherwise no worse for wear, and studying the strange man so recently attempting-  _badly_ \- to pin her to the ground, she supposes she can't really stay mad at a guy wearing his own blood for face paint.

"Yeah. Well. Just watch it next time..."

She warns amiably enough, and Regina sighs as she looks from Emma to Sydney and wonders just what in the hell to do now.

_This isn't how this was supposed to go!_

No. Not at all.

Sydney was supposed to-  _carefully_ \- ambush the girl, and pin her-  _gently_ \- to the ground. Keeping her thusly at his mercy for a short while, so that _she_  could then- _bravely_ \- come running to the blonde's rescue and pull Sydney off of her.

_Should have figured things wouldn't go so smoothly with Miss Swan involved._

Pondering what to do next, she is saved the trouble when Emma addresses the issue with admirable calm.

"Well, I know you wanted to show me things up here, but I reckon he shouldn't really be left wandering around out here if he's going to go about tackling people. We should take him home."

She gives a dismissive jerk of her thumb behind her at the bleeding man and Regina bites back a smirk as Sydney glowers miserably behind the blonde.

"Agreed. I will take him to mine and sort him out. I see no reason to tell the Sheriff about what's happened, so long as you don't mind letting the matter lie?"

She asks Emma, already knowing the answer. As she'd predicted, the younger woman wrinkles her nose and shakes long curls briskly.

"No harm done... Well. To me."

She adds on as an afterthought, and Regina nods as she ponders the drying cracked-glaze of gore coating Sydney's chin.

"Let's head back, then."

She suggests with a similar tone of dismissal, and she shoots the reporter a glance that silently requests he obey and follow. He does so gingerly, not needing to put much effort into the act as he weaves a little on his feet; his nose throbbing grotesquely, and his wits truly shaken by the ferocity of the young woman stalking casually beside the Mayor.

* * *

Disposing of blood-soaked tissues with a disgusted curl of her lip, Regina looks up as Henry enters her study and sighs.

"Why was Sydney just holding his nose when he left?"

He asks curiously, and the brunette sighs as she falls back into her chair and drums her fingers on the smooth lacquer of her desk irritably.

"Operation Ocelot didn't quite go to plan."

She grumbles. Henry throws her a deeply commiserating look, before helping himself to a seat on one of the sofas that centre the room.

"How come?"

"Well, Gold said-"

"-You mean Rumplestilstkin-"

"-Yes, okay,  _Rumple_  said I would do well to win Miss Swan's favour by coming to her aid."

"Like her rescue?"

"Precisely. I asked Sydney to do the  _simplest_  of tasks- to simply give Emma a little bit of a scare so that I might offer some help and solace- and the idiot couldn't even get  _that_  much right."

She laments caustically, and the boy grins as he pulls a pillow into his lap.

"Emma wasn't scared, was she?"

He says it as though speaking of some childhood hero, and she supposes that in a way, that is precisely what the blonde has always been to her son. The thought amuses her more than it angers her if she's honest.

"No. _Emma_  somewhat threw a spanner in the works by _beating_  on poor Mr Glass until his nose bled... Not  _quite_  what I'd had in mind, but then she was always so  _good_  at making things difficult."

She muses darkly, and her small smile matches Henry's as he finds himself fascinated hearing his mother talk of someone in such an amused and affectionate manner. He knows he should probably feel sorry for Sydney given the blonde ended up hurting him as a result of Regina's trick, but both parties that would be in a position to scold and remind him of the fact are currently fairly deep into things themselves. He catches the brunette's guilty grin easily, although she does her best to remain outwardly irritated and composed.

"It's ok, we'll just think of something else."

He consoles amiably, and Regina nods, accepting that this is going to have to be the way forward, while confiding soberly

"I just hope Miss Swan can refrain from beating up anyone else in the meantime."


	30. Chapter 30

"Woah, what happened?"

Ruby asks as she flops into the booth opposite Emma, strategically ignoring the irritable glower this action garners from Granny who clears her throat pointedly and gestures towards a mop.

"What do you mean?"

The blonde asks, looking up from her laptop curiously.

"Is that blood?"

"Where?"

"On your shirt collar."

"Oh."

Emma sighs, pulling her shirt as far away from her as she is able to and peering down at a small, dried splash of scarlet.

"Yeah, I think so. It's not mine."

She explains, looking back down at the email she's composing in reply to Ellen Major's rather forward expression of her opinion about her.

_How very uncouth..._

Ruby frowns, waiting for the blonde to elaborate, and rolling her eyes when she doesn't.

" _Generally,_  that's the kind of thing that requires follow up information."

She teases, and Emma grins- double checking her spelling of 'disembowel' before hitting 'send'- and looking back up at the waitress.

"This weird guy came running at me when I was out with Regina. I don't know what he thought he was going to gain from it, he didn't even seem all that  _interested_  once we were face to face, and his technique was  _pitiful_  if he'd been hoping to steal anything."

"Is  _your_  technique better?"

Ruby jokes, and the blonde raises an arrogant brow and replies cooly

"Yes."

"Hmm... Good to know. So what happened then?"

"Well, he managed to floor me- what with me not really  _expecting_  a full on tackle and throw- but after that, I'll bet he begun to wish he'd never started. I didn't exactly  _mean_  to punch him, though. It just happened."

"You punched a guy by accident?"

Ruby grins.

"He deserved it."

The blonde shrugs, before she closes down her macbook neatly. Sipping her coffee thoughtfully, she regards the young waitress as the latter smiles at her amiably, showing no signs of moving any time soon.

"Can I ask you something, Ruby?"

"Of course you can."

"Regina has me here looking for someone. A girl who called herself Alice, but that might not be her real name. Do you know who that might be?"

"Alice... No. Sorry. No Alice that I can think of, and I know pretty much everyone here in town!"

"Yeah. I thought you might say that."

Emma frowns, and the brunette studies her curiously as she leans forward with her elbows folded on the table between them.

"How come? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just... This job she's got me doing is really vague. She's not really told me anything at  _all_. That seems a little weird to me given that I'm charging her for time spent, but it's almost like she's  _avoiding_  actually making any progress so that she can find this girl. I guess I could understand if she was nervous, but I'm not so sure that's it. I'm starting to wonder if there even _is_  an Alice... But if there's  _not,_  then what am I doing here?"

She pulls a face, not really expecting Ruby to be able to shed any light on the topic, but feeling a small sense of relief to at least vocalise the odd thought that has been sitting in her chest for the last couple of hours. She has no clue what it might mean if Regina has asked her here under false pretences, nor can she see any  _reason_  for the Mayor to do so.

_Hell, if she wanted me to fuck her, she could have asked for that back in Boston._

Crass, and of course not what Regina has specifically sought her out for- at least, she doesn't think so!- but true. She has no idea what the ulterior motive might be, but something about this whole situation just doesn't sit right with her.

_It's not just Alice, either._

No, not just Alice. This whole _town_  kind of gives her the creeps.

There's something not quite right here.

"I'm sure there's an explanation."

Ruby assures kindly, before glancing around surreptitiously and continuing

"Though, to be honest, the Mayor's kind of weird. She speaks well and acts well, but that woman can be a stone cold  _bitch_  sometimes."

She swallows, regarding Emma nervously, and the blonde muses on this warning pensively and replies

"I dunno. I think she's nice."

_She's nice... She's nice... She's so nice_

"Well, you  _would_  say that."

The brunette rolls her eyes, before the blonde asks her curiously

"Would I? Why?"

"... I... I don't know..."

Ruby frowns, not having a clue how to answer. Why  _would_  Emma say that? She doesn't know, but something in the back of her mind nags at her frustratingly.

_Because Emma always stood up for her. She was infatuated with her. Always, always; she's nice._

"I just think you might want to watch out for yourself."

She shrugs lamely, not sure how else to continue. Emma nods, amiably enough, and points out

"Fortunately, I excel at that."

"No shit."

Ruby grins, eyeing the dried blood at the older woman's collar. Finishing her coffee, Emma glances down at the small mark also, before pushing herself from the booth and stating

"I might change, come to think of it!"

"Yeah. It clashes with your jacket."

Ruby teases, and Emma seems to consider this for a moment, before replying seriously

" _Everything_  clashes with that jacket."

* * *

"What about cutting the brakes?"

"No! That's far too dangerous."

Regina insists immediately, and Henry ponders this response carefully before nodding his agreement.

"You're going to have to think of  _something_  good though, mom. Emma's pretty cool, you know."

"Is she?"

The brunette asks with a long suffering sigh, but the boy knows not to read too deeply into this.

"Yes."

He replies simply.

"Maybe you should have asked more people to scare her, not just Sydney. Like how it was when she helped you. You said it was a bunch of guys?"

"...I'm not sure how I would orchestrate that, dear."

Regina replies sensibly enough, but her teeth grit as she recalls the electric fear that had hit her when the men had come crowding closer. Of course, this is something she can't tell Henry; can't tell him what she'd been afraid they were going to do. She remembers Emma telling her that Denny and his boys were all bark and no bite, but she also recalls the way they'd seemed unfazed the second time they'd come for them until being interrupted with the threat of the police. She supposes she has no way of knowing just how much danger she'd been in that night, but she isn't going to be as careless when it comes to repaying Emma's favour.

"Yeah, we can't really involve too many people."

Henry nods, sighing as he shifts his position on the hard stone floor and rifles through the diagrams and drawings he'd brought down to his mother's office. She sits perched on the edge of the sofa watching him, tapping her nails against the delicate porcelain of the mug in her hand as she joins the boy in trying to find a solution.

A loud snap, and they both look up- startled- before Henry chuckles, realising it comes from the roaring fire. Regina gets up to stoke the burning wood with the iron poker resting beside the hearth, a slow wave of inspiration creeping into the forefront of her mind as she studies the flames.


	31. Chapter 31

Entering the Diner, the Mayor scans the mostly empty booths before approaching the counter.

"Miss Lucas."

She heralds, and Ruby turns, her pen nipped coquettishly between her teeth, and hurries over from where she'd been stood giggling at something Billy had been telling her as the young man attempts to help her fix one of the ovens.

"Kitchen's closed, Madame Mayor."

She informs, adopting a slight frown as she would have thought Regina would know such things. The darker woman gives a small nod and explains her reasoning for visiting.

"I know this, dear, having lived here for  _quite_  a few years. I was wondering if you'd seen Miss Swan."

She enquires, and the waitress flinches as a loud clatter sounds from behind her, before grinning apologetically.

"I think she's up in her room. She said she had some things to do."

"I see. Thank you."

Regina nods, and the young brunette watches her turn to leave with a raised brow as she recalls her curious conversation with Emma earlier in the afternoon. Turning back to Billy, she smirks as he looks down at the litter of tools lying around his feet in defeat.

"Never mind, I'll call Marco tomorrow morning."

"I told you to call him in the _first_  place! There's a big difference between cars and cookers!"

Billy grumbles amiably, and Ruby sticks her tongue out and teases

"Yeah, but he's not  _nearly_  so much fun to watch get all hot and bothered."

"Is that so?"

"Mmmhmm..."

She smirks, glancing back briefly as she watches Regina disappear through the narrow side door that leads up to the bedrooms.

* * *

Knocking on the blonde's door, the Mayor waits in vain for a reply. Deciding to simply plead presumptive that her company should be met with great pleasure, she finds the door to be unlocked and enters the room accordingly. The muffled spray of the shower is audible now that she's crossed the threshold, and a devilish smile alights her lips, although she remains a polite distance from the closed bathroom door as she crosses over to the bed.

The younger woman's clothes lie strewn in a collection of small mounds beside the armchair in the corner, and Regina toes at pretty burgundy lace, before perching primly on the bed. The covers have been pulled neatly to touch up against four plush floral pillows, each perfectly fluffed into place. She knows it won't have been Emma responsible for the bed's tidy appearance, and so concludes that Granny will have already made her round of the rooms this evening.

 _A laughable practice in all honesty. This is the_  first _time the old crone has_ received _a visitor!_

True, but she knows the spinster likes to keep things orderly, and she supposes this is a habit she can understand.

Once again, Emma's laptop stands open on the bed, and when she presses one of the keys, the screen lights up immediately. A web browser takes up half the screen, sporting a long and very irate email. The rest of the younger woman's desktop is littered with folders bearing curious names, and after a moment's pondering over the amount of them titled with a christian name, it dawns on her that these are probably case files the blonde has previously worked on. She almost dismisses this unimportant discovery entirely, before noting that a small cluster of folders to the bottom right hand side of the screen are labelled differently.

_Kittery._

_Hospital Info._

_Potential Leads._

And, the very last one, with its top corner just covering part of the Hospital Info folder;

_Storybrooke(?)_

Frowning, Regina moves the cursor over to the folder hesitantly, leaving the little arrow hovering over the word to find that this brings up a small window of information.

_Created 3 days ago._

Glancing up towards the bathroom door, she debates whether to open up the folder or not. Eventually she refrains. What stops her is realising that nested with the others bearing case names, there's a folder titled Alice. Hovering over this one, she sees it was created three days ago also.

_So what, then, is the other folder?_

She frowns, but more due to the fact that she believes she might already know, rather than out of confusion. She knows what Kittery means to the blonde; knows that that's where Emma had been found as an infant. She also recalls what the younger woman had told her about having checked the hospitals for information about her birth.

The folders are personal.

They are the missing persons case the blonde has never been able to solve.

Sighing, Regina hangs her head, before jumping when the door blows closed after having negated to shut it properly.

* * *

Standing beneath the heavy spray of the shower, Emma turns now and then to tweak the temperature. She twists the small dial as far as she is able to handle- the water almost scalding- before twisting it just a little more once she's grown accustomed to the heat. It makes her skin glow an accusing red, and she shivers appreciatively as warm tingles work their way through her limbs. Her hair hangs long, wet and straight, almost reaching the base of her ribcage with her curls weighed down.

"Ah!"

She grits her teeth as she ups the temperature just a little too much and steps swiftly out of the shower's spray. Bracing herself, she steps back beneath the heat, before freezing up when she catches the low thud of the door closing. She's almost certain that it is her bedroom door and not another down the hall, and she shuts off the water with a frown. Standing hesitantly silent with her head cocked to pick up any further noise, small freshets of water stream down her bare flesh to patter onto the white enamel below. Swallowing, she opens the shower door slowly, careful to keep from making any noise, before stepping out onto the fluffy bathmat that centres the room. She pulls a towel around herself and tucks it firmly into place, before touching her fingers uncertainly against the handle of the door. She can think of only two people that might enter her room uninvited; Ruby or Regina. A small spark of excitement flickers low in her stomach as she considers the second option, but old habits and cautions die hard, and when she finally opens the bathroom door, she does so with her razor held behind her back.

* * *

"Regina!"

Emma scolds after entering the room in a swift move the brunette likens to a pounce. Dark eyes flicker from the mint green razor held in the blonde's hand to the appealing glisten of pale limbs.

"Miss Swan."

She responds primly, and Emma brandishes the blade as she barks a little breathlessly

"What the hell are you doing sneaking around?"

"I knocked."

The Mayor shrugs, as though everything that has come to follow is the younger woman's fault, and she brushes off any further irritation by pointing to the open laptop on the bed.

"That's really a rather _impressive_  variety of adjectives."

"I... Yeah. I guess so."

Emma sighs, not bothering to call the darker woman out for snooping. Instead she stalks further into the room and attempts to adopt a nonchalant stance. This works for a moment or two, before she notices the clothes littering the floor and attempts to nudge them surreptitiously under the bed with her foot. Looking up to be met with a knowing smirk, she sighs, and gives up any pretence at appearing aloof.

"It's from my old boss. I never knew her vocabulary was so _colourful_. It's a little over the top though, I reckon, bordering on illegally threatening. Interesting use of the term 'scarlet woman' though, I have to say."

"Hmm... And I'm sure you did  _nothing_  to deserve it..."

"Of course not! What do you take me for?"

The blonde asks, widening her eyes theatrically, and Regina chuckles as she watches Emma take a seat in the armchair opposite the bed; holding her towel primly in place.

"So what are you doing here?"

"I was taking a walk while Johanna finishes off some baking at home. Well, that's her excuse. I believe she sometimes stays late because she enjoys sitting by the fire... I suppose I like the company also."

The brunette shrugs. This is not something she has ever admitted to anyone-  _would_  ever admit to anyone- but there had been a time when she'd seen Emma as her relief to the heaviness built up in her heart, and she feels a strange sense of peace in divulging her private thoughts to the younger woman. She supposes this is what other people might consider friendly conversation.

_Opening up._

Emma nods, unaware of the faith Regina is allowing her, and the brunette continues with no hint of anything deeper.

"I thought I'd come up here and inform you that I have some records that might be of use to you in the Town Hall. Ledgers. I'm not sure exactly what you would find in them, but-"

"-Actually, that's more along the lines of the stuff I'm  _used_  to looking up."

The younger woman smiles, and there is a definite note of relief in her tone which she explains sheepishly following a curious look from the Mayor.

"I was getting worried that I'd not really be much use to you."

She confides, leaving out her further concerns that the darker woman might be up to something.

"I've been struggling to see how I could help with so little information, but if you have concrete documents on the people here, and you think she's likely to be mentioned, then I have a pretty good nose for anything that might be relevant."

"Good."

Regina replies, feeling a small glimmer of guilt at setting the younger woman up to fail, before quelling it easily.

_Soon it will all be over._

"You do have my  _number_ , though."

The blonde points out, and the brunette's brow furrows as she she responds

"I do... What about it?"

"You could have  _called_  me to let me know about this."

Emma points out, but she does so with a smirk, and Regina regards her thoughtfully as her dark eyes drop to the low folds of the towel wrapped around the younger woman's slender frame.

"I could have. But where would the fun be in  _that_?"

She teases, and the blonde grins before asking curiously

"...Is this weird for you?"

"Is what weird for me?"

"What happened between us the other night... _All_  of this I suppose. You've asked me here to help you find someone that you say you were very close to. You came all the way to Boston for my help to look for Alice... Is it weird for you that we ended up fucking?"

_Was it planned?_

_... Don't be ridiculous, Swan._

"... No."

Regina replies eventually, and the blonde raises a brow in surprise.

"It's not weird for me," The brunette continues, "It feels right."

"... Yeah... I guess it does..."

The younger woman agrees pensively, before admitting openly

"You know,  _that's_  kind of weird for me."

"What is?"

" _Not_  feeling weird about it."

The blonde chuckles awkwardly, and she runs her finger thoughtfully over the soft fuzz of her towel before looking back up into dark eyes and confiding

"I've never met anyone like you, Regina... That makes me kind of nervous."

The brunette swallows, searching for a response, before Emma asks quietly

"...Should I be?"

 _Should I be nervous? I can't read you like I can most people. All I know is that you're hiding something. That much is clear. And hell, I'll be the first to say that we all have skeletons in our closets- I understand that. I just need to know if I should be wary... Because something about you brings my guard down. Not all the way, maybe not even_ half _of the way, but more than I would normally allow when faced with a stranger... You don't_  feel _like a stranger to me, though. That's the crazy part... You make me feel things I've not felt before, and so yes, my question stands; should I be nervous?_

"...No. You have no reason to be nervous."

_I'll never harm you._

"Well... I suppose you  _would_  say that."

The blonde smirks, although the Mayor doesn't miss the glitter of unease in wide eyes. She almost calls Emma on it; almost asks her to believe. But then thick lashes break the younger woman's cool stare, and when her eyes open again, that tentative, nervous trust has been replaced by a strangely hard breed of good humour, and the blonde pushes herself up from the chair and asks slyly

"So... Henry has a sitter for a little while still?"


	32. Chapter 32

Regina blinks as she takes in the suggestive tone to Emma's question. True, she'd come up here because she'd wanted to see the blonde. She'd almost say she'd  _missed_  her, but that notion is too complicated to fully accept. She'd not come up here in the hopes of anything heated however, and she still doesn't know quite how to feel about acknowledging the delicious undertone to their recent interactions while the younger woman remains in the dark about the bigger picture.

Still, she had not been called the Evil Queen for nothing, and as she had once warned Emma all those years ago, there is a self indulgent streak that runs deep within her that demands what she wants over all better judgement. It is a streak she had struggled- and eventually, hatefully  _failed_ \- to keep from dominating her time with the blonde, but right now, she's not the one playing with fire. She's not the one stoking the flames. The younger woman's voice is thick with lust, and her eyes offer little choice but to comply with her poorly veiled proposition.

"Johanna is home with Henry, yes..."

The brunette replies, and she watches hungrily as Emma nods and pushes herself from the chair. The blonde says nothing else on the matter, but simply walks over to the dresser opposite the bed and begins brushing her hair. Thick tangles make a dull sound as they are tamed into submission, and the Mayor watches as wet golden curls snare and fall back into place, sending droplets trickling down the blonde's bare arms and shoulders. She can't see from her position on the bed, but she knows they will be running down into the tempting valley between the younger woman's breasts.

Her eyes flicker from Emma to the laptop on the bed. A screen saver has taken over from the blonde's ex-employer's rage filled email, and she watches it curiously as a series of photographs slide and fade on the screen. Most of them are scenic, but the amateur quality and a few familiar scenes from the park they had strolled through back in Boston lead her to believe that they are pictures taken by the blonde herself. An image of a heavy set woman spins from the left of the screen to replace the shocking red leaves of a tree by a lake, and she offers the photographer- presumably Emma- her middle finger in front of a cunning smile. The same woman comes sliding in from the right, this time with her arm outstretched to hold out the camera or phone, and the blonde stood behind her, eclipsed by her generous curves for the most part, pulling a face. They wear matching jerseys and behind them the Mayor can make out a ring of ice. This image of Emma with the buxom woman is swallowed by one of the blonde smiling, looking pretty in a pale green shirt beside a good looking guy in a pair of board shorts. His hips sport twin flashes of dark ink, and he has his arm around Emma as she has her own held in close to her sides with a drink in her hand. This position serves to accentuate her cleavage, which her tattooed friend is doing a poor job of ignoring.

Thinning her lips, Regina watches as the picture display times out and the screen goes black.

Looking back up at Emma, she feels a dark lust that is unbearably familiar but has been absent since they have become reacquainted. She's felt a strong sense of relief that the girl is safe and well, and an immense happiness to be around her once again, and these pleasant- and arguably uncharacteristic- thoughts have clouded the base reality of her pull towards the younger woman. She has worried continually about crossing lines and boundaries, but seeing the blonde with another has brought out a side of her that has existed long before she'd met the girl. It is a dark and possessive sense of wanting, and as she knows now that she will be able to keep it in check to just this room and moment- so much more in control of herself than she had been towards the end- she feels a great sense of exhilaration and excitement in letting it take over.

Watching the blonde place her brush down on the dresser and shake out her curls, she repeats one word over and over in her mind.

_Mine._

Feeling a small flicker of fury that another has touched her things- despite knowing such irritation to be irrational and unfair- she welcomes it rather than pushing it away, meeting Emma's cool gaze intently and offering a slow smile.

"That's a terrible colour on you."

She states huskily, gesturing towards the younger woman's towel, and the blonde raises a brow and grins.

"Yeah? You think so?"

"I know so."

Regina agrees, pushing herself from the bed and closing in on her prey.

"I dunno. I kind of like it."

Emma teases, primping at the folds of the towel demurely, before letting out a surprised cry that cracks into laughter as the brunette yanks the offending fabric roughly away.

"Hey!"

She yelps, but the flash of her teeth speaks only of amusement, and the Mayor wonders how many  _other_  pictures of  _other_  partners are swimming about on the laptop resting accusingly on the bed. She'd guess a fair few, and that average number is only because she doubts Emma will have taken pictures with most of her carnal trysts. The real figure is probably higher than she'd like to say; it's been ten years and the girl is extremely easy on the eye. She knows in the back of her mind that these are dangerous thoughts to be having, but she can't help it. Emma is initially cold and hard to get close to, but seeing that photograph reminds her that there will have been some who  _were_  able to get close enough to touch.

_None as close as myself... None that she would let in like me..._

She decides that this is almost certainly true, basing this off everything she knows about the blonde, and her own sense of superiority. Right now, her thoughts are a little conceited however. Right now, things aren't so deep. It's shallow, but right  _now_  this is about want and need and sex. Right now it's about showing the girl what she's been missing.

_That's not fair, she doesn't know... Doesn't remember..._

True. But as she pushes the blonde roughly against the dresser, she vows to leave the younger woman with little option but to think of her and her alone from now on.

_You told me you loved me. That I was amazing. You asked me to teach you, and I complied. You once looked at me as though you worshipped me..._

_... It was a good look on you, dear._

Smirking, she tosses the stolen towel onto the bed, covering the laptop, and presses into bare flesh heavily. Emma grunts as the iron drawer pulls of the dresser dig into her lower back and slings her arms around the brunette's shoulders. She reciprocates the darker woman's kiss hungrily, a little surprised at the ferocity in the brunette's attention. Cruel teeth nip at her tongue in a way that is playful yet sharp, and as slim hips grind against her own she makes a small noise through parted lips as the dresser's handles bury deeper into her flesh.

Regina pulls back and tugs none to gently at the long hair that cascades over the arm she has wrapped around the blonde, and she peers over the younger woman's bare shoulder to where the metal pulls abuse the reddening skin above the curve of the girl's ass. She relishes the sight for a moment longer- giving in to the darker side of herself she has mostly denied when around Emma and slamming her hips one more time, hard, against the blonde's to observe a small graze muddy alabaster flesh- before pulling the younger woman firmly around and manipulating pale limbs so that she bends over the dresser instead.

In this new position, Emma stands with her forearms crossed on the lacquered surface and her legs invitingly parted to allow for the position to be relatively comfortable.

_And I'll bet Madame Mayor isn't minding the view, either._

She grins to herself, favourably surprised by the way Regina has taken the reigns on this little scene.

_It's almost as though she can read my mind..._

Well, maybe she won't go quite _that_  far, but good sex is something she has come to learn is hard to find, especially when unwilling to commit to the arduous task of getting to know someone inbetween. Over the years, she has experimented where possible, but the rough hand Regina currently favours is one she hasn't found in many previous suitors, despite doing her best to goad it out of them. They have all either been too apprehensive- treating her as though worried she might break and thus infuriating her into a frenzied mess of angered, dissatisfied fucking- or too heavy handed; causing just pain and very little pleasure.

Hurting her.

Regina does a little of both, and a lot of neither. She enters her without warning to illicit a cry of surprise, and laughs darkly in place of offering any apology. She doesn't bring her hand down smartly over the bare round of her backside however, despite the suggestive way she stands. She doesn't push her down or yank on her hair, but rather presses into her and grazes her teeth lightly over the peak of her shoulder.

"Fuck."

The blonde shudders, and the Mayor smirks into soft skin and nips the fragile dip of the younger woman's shoulder blade. She recalls the way the last time they'd enjoyed a similar position Emma had bitten down on the vulnerable inside of her arm to keep from screaming.

Recalls the angry bruising of her teeth and the pretty fluttering of her ribs.

Watching the blonde intently- grieving all of the lost time between them- she roughens her pace while using her other hand to caress the curve of the younger woman's hip affectionately. Sensing that Emma is close to going over, she pulls at her again- intrigued by the admirable flash of anger that replaces dazed lust at this interruption to her pleasure- and presses her once more with her back against the dresser; wanting to look into the blonde's eyes as she unravels.

It doesn't take long.

"Look at me."

She demands, and the blonde complies with a subtle raising of her jaw. Her eyes burn defiantly as she seems almost to challenge the darker woman as she shudders beneath her wicked touch, before she is unable to maintain her composure and she buckles back against the dresser with her lashes squeezed shut.

Regina catches her easily at the waist and trails glistening fingers up slowly to rest low on the younger woman's stomach as the latter pants into her ear.

"Damn."

Emma laughs breathlessly, and with the impish glitter in her eyes, it's like nothing between them has changed.

Knowing it's a long shot but not seeing the harm, Regina kisses her softly.

Pulling away, she sees nothing, as she had begrudgingly expected she would.

Nothing but good humour and curiousity.

"Emma."

She muses quietly, savouring the blonde's name with a small, reluctant sigh, and the younger woman blushes but seems slightly less agitated than she had back in the office when faced with the Mayor's post-sin affection.

"Will you let me up? The handles are digging into my back."

She asks amiably, and Regina nods and takes a swift step backwards, allowing the blonde to stalk over to perch on the bed. As she goes, the Mayor is able to glimpse a series of darkening marks littering the pale skin of her back and butt, and she informs the girl lightly

"You're going to bruise."

"I know."

Emma shrugs, in a way that is painfully familiar in its calmness about such things.

"I should go."

Regina sighs, rather regretfully.

"So soon?"

The blonde frowns, glancing down pointedly at the bed. The Mayor smiles at this, relishing the genuine look of disappointment that flickers for just a moment in green eyes.

"Johanna will be wondering where I've got to. And Henry will want me to check in on him before he allows himself to sleep."

"Alright. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"I'd imagine so... I have a few things to be getting on with in the morning, but the municipal office will be open from nine. This is a rarity for a Sunday, but I've let the cleaning staff know to expect you and not to lock up after their morning shift. I don't imagine anyone else will be around so early, but you can just let yourself in, dear. The first door to the left is the bathroom, the next one along is the office where all ledgers and documentation are kept.

... Good luck."


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry, a bit of a random one, but I'm exhausted so figured I'd add in these little scenes and tackle the big one when more awake! Hope it's still enjoyable to read, and reviews would be lovely :)

Studying herself in the mirror as she brushes her teeth, Emma pushes up onto her toes and twists around to glimpse the small scatter of marks left by the dresser following her surprise encounter with Regina. She smirks at her reflected self before spitting white foam into the sink and rinsing. She feels good this morning. Great, actually. As she'd told the Mayor back in her office, it had been a while, but that first crossing of boundaries on the brunette's plush sofas had been tainted with a small measure of uncertainty. She had been breaking the rules and seeing what might happen, and while it had all turned out deliciously, it had also been a case of expecting to be scolded at any moment.

 _Not that that necessarily would have been a_ negative _thing..._

Emma rolls her eyes, pulling her hair back into a thick ponytail that falls messily between her shoulder blades. Last night had been different, though. Different in a lot of ways. It had been clear from the Mayor's actions that she was just as aware of the strange tension between them as she is herself, and it had been a nice turn of events to come up against someone who compliments her so well without having to say too much and leave herself vulnerable. She feels, well... Sated. Satisfied. And for the first time in as long as she can remember, she's not viewing the fact that she's taking steps further into a relationship with someone- however vague that term may be- as a cause to flee the scene or raise her hackles up and bite.

 _Oh, I'll bite if she gives me a_  reason _... But I'm not sure she will._

Raising a brow as this queerly trusting side of herself is one that hasn't come out in over ten years, she decides not to ruin a good thing by looking too deeply into it and places her toothbrush back beside the sink.

Stalking into the bedroom, she roots around in her knapsack for some underwear and fresh pair of socks and reminds herself to throw her accumulated laundry into one of the washers downstairs. She's beginning to run a little low on clothes, and this brings about the question that has haunted her the last couple of days.

_How long am I supposed to be staying here?_

_What's going on?_

_What am I doing?_

_Am I_ missing _something here?_

All valid concerns, but ones that she feels much more at ease about this morning. After all, she's up sacrilegiously early for a Sunday to go and have a look at the ledgers Regina had mentioned in the municipal office; finally having been offered a concrete lead in this altogether shady case.

"Let's just get the job done, and see how she thanks me..."

She smirks, pulling on her jeans before stumbling backwards with a cry as the door swings open.

"Ruby!"

"Emma!"

The waitress shrieks, staggering back herself as the blonde hastily crosses her arms over her chest. It doesn't go unnoticed that Emma does so while simultaneously flipping her off, and she laughs a little sheepishly and turns theatrically towards the corner as the door glides shut.

"What the hell are you  _doing_?!"

The blonde huffs as she yanks on a shirt and sweater.

"I heard you talking, so figured you were up."

The waitress shrugs, before continuing primly

"I didn't figure you'd be talking to  _yourself_."

"Yeah, well... Ever heard of _knocking_?"

Emma grumbles, taking a seat on the bed to lace up her boots. She catches the rolling of the brunette's eyes as Ruby turns back to face her and glowers. Where she's from- a whole mess of places she's from- knocking had been a big thing.

"Where are you off to?"

The waitress asks, oblivious to any residual irritation at her entrance.

"Work."

"Work?"

"Yeah, Regina asked me to head down to the municipal office to look up some stuff about her Alice girl."

"So she _does_  exist."

Ruby smiles, and Emma nods distractedly and agrees.

"I guess so. I was just being paranoid before, I guess."

"Maybe. That's too bad, though; I was coming to ask if you wanted to grab some breakfast with me before we opened."

"Sorry, another time maybe."

The blonde apologises, shoving her phone and wallet into her pockets and grabbing the key to the room."

"At least take a coffee to go?"

"Well, I'm never gonna say no to  _that_!"

Emma assures, locking the door behind them as they filter out into the hallway, before following Ruby down the stairs and into the currently deserted Diner.

"Is it pretty clear where I need to go to get to the offices?"

"Yeah. Go to the big town hall in the square, and the treasury and information offices are round to the side in the smaller building with the green roof. I'm not sure you'll be able to get in, though..."

"Regina said they'd be open."

"Oh... Well, ok. Weird, though."

"How come?"

"Nothing... I just don't think I've ever _seen_  anyone in the offices there."

"So early?"

"... At all..."

"Well... She said she'd ask the cleaning staff to leave the door open for me."

Emma frowns, and Ruby shrugs slim shoulders as she pours steaming coffee into a paper cup and hands it to the blonde.

"She would know what goes on in there, I guess."

The brunette offers pleasantly, but there is small note of doubt in her tone that the older woman detects with a hint of dubiety.

"I suppose I'll find out either way."

Emma sighs, pouring three sachets of sugar into her coffee before hesitating over a fourth. Ruby watches her with a small smile, chuckling when the blonde goes on to rip open the remaining packet in her hand.

"That's so bad for you, you know?"

"I can take care of myself. And besides, I haven't had breakfast."

Emma reasons, and the waitress tosses back long tresses and hands over a small, neatly packaged pastry and napkin put together while waiting for the coffee to brew.

"I realised. I'm not always on the ball with everything else, but I've been taking orders for a living, and a little extra attention to someone's stomach makes for good tips."

"I'll bet. I'm torn between calling you a feeder and commenting on your 'taking orders for a living' remark. So much mocking gold."

The blonde grins as she stalks towards the door, telling herself not to dwell too deeply on the fact that she is able to talk to Ruby in a way she would never ordinarily let loose with anyone.

_Best to just ignore it and take it as it is. Best not to open a can of worms here, Swan._

"What's a feeder?"

The brunette asks curiously as she follows Emma to the door so that she can lock it behind the blonde; the Diner not opening to the public for another twenty minutes.

"I'll educate you later."

The blonde grins, taking her leave.

* * *

Regina sits behind the wheel of her Benz and waits.

Watching.

She's parked in a narrow side street beside a 'no loading' sign, nestled in the shadow between the pharmacy and a store with boarded windows. She has her own coffee held between her hands, though hers has been prepared for her by Johanna that morning.

On the seat beside her lies a pair of gloves with the cuffs turned out from where she has pulled them from her hands. They smell ever so faintly of gasoline.

She glances at the dashboard clock and makes it ten minutes to nine.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spies a figure making their way up the street.

She recognises Emma immediately, almost without turning to really look. She knows the way the blonde walks. The way she holds herself.

She shrinks back in her seat as the blonde passes her car on the other side of the street- although knows this will do her no good if plans go awry- but Emma keeps walking and mounts the steps to the office. She pauses for a moment outside, seeming to hesitate, before trying the door and finding it to be open.

Watching as the younger woman slips from view, Regina sips at her coffee and begins to count down.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was a little unsure how to go with this one, but I liked the idea of having fire to mimic the show so went with my gut. Hopefully it works! Enjoy and please review!

Walking down an eerily empty hallway, Emma wrinkles her nose as the smell of apples is almost cloyingly strong. The scent is sweet and artificial, and thick enough to suggest that someone hasn't just spritzed the place with a little room spray, but absolutely  _doused_  it.

"Could be worse."

She tells herself, her low murmur seeming jarringly loud as it shatters the dead silence.

 _Yes, could be worse, but it's_ weird _!_

Very weird. The place has been all but  _nuked_  with air freshener, and yet thick veils of dust shroud the phone and letter tray on the counter in the reception as though no one has been here for years.

 _Well, Ruby_ did _say..._

But she cuts her thoughts off there before they can continue. Yes, the waitress proclaimed she'd thought it odd that anything might be lurking in the offices; stating that she had never seen anyone coming in or out, but Regina  _sent_  her here, and she's getting pretty tired of humouring the weird sense of foreboding that nags at her about this place. These people. This town.

"Just do your job. What could possibly go  _wrong_  here? Even if it all does seem a little weird? What's the  _worst_  that can happen?"

She scolds herself beneath her breath, and she stalks towards the office door at the end of the hall; her nostrils flaring with sweet candy apples, and just a hint of something she can't quite place underneath.

Letting herself in to a small room crammed claustrophobically with filing cabinets, she sighs defeatedly as she wonders where in the hell to even  _start_. Selecting a drawer at random, she pulls it out and whistles low as thick wads of paperwork spill from dossier folders seemingly stuffed into the cabinet with no attempt at organisation.

"Fuck."

Nosing through some papers that appear to document the death of a young woman through reasons unknown, she pulls a face as she reads a small note mentioning that the deceased has left behind twin children and shoves the paper back in with the rest.

"You couldn't have given me even a  _hint_  what to look for, Madam Mayor?"

She grumbles, spying a chair in the corner and dragging it into the middle of the room. Resigning herself to her doom, she pulls an armload of paperwork from the drawer and places it beside the chair. When she sits, clouds of dust waft out of the badly upholstered seat cushion causing her to cough dryly.

"You better be ready to make these poor working conditions worth their  _while.._."

She mutters, unaware that things are only about to get worse.

* * *

Outside, Regina slips from her Benz and makes her way up the steps of the municipal building. Her fingers play over the sleek body of the lighter in her coat pocket, and she swallows as she throws a glance over her shoulder to check the street. A squirrel preens brazenly on the sidewalk by the curb, but otherwise she is alone.

"Good."

She breathes, opening the door with great care not to make a sound. The room spray she'd spritzed this morning is almost overpowering, but she is pleased to find that it does the job of masking the dangerous smell of gasoline. She had originally looked for odorless accelerants, but most of what she had come across had seemed a little too unpredictable for her to feel comfortable in using it.

" _Comfortable_? Not a single thing about this situation is  _comfortable_!"

True, but she's done her research, and has double and triple checked what the likely pattern of the flames will be when she lights the carefully situationed line of gasoline down the hall. She's opened the relevant windows to avoid creating a vacuum, and she's made sure that while offering a dramatic backdrop to her choreographed heroism, neither she nor Emma will be in any real danger.

"So, let's get to it."

She psyches herself up quietly, and her heart feels as though it might give out on her At any moment now as it races sickeningly with anxious adrenaline. Sliding the lighter from her coat, she opens it up with an unsteady hand and studies the flame for what seems like an eternity before glancing back up at the door to the office where she can hear the blonde humming cheerfully as she goes about her futile task.

_Go on. Do it. Do it now. It's not going to get any easier._

No. It's not, and she pulls herself together and bends down to pick up the small, innocuous looking slice of a door stopper from the corner. Wedging it forcefully beneath the door to the office, she takes a couple of steps back and says a little prayer to no one in particular. Creeping back down the hall, she stops beside the start of the trail of gas and bends down, touching the flame in her hand to the near invisible track that lines the skirting board.

A small sputter, and then a flare of heat as the gasoline ignites.

"Oh..."

It's a small, worried sound in the back of her throat, and she wishes more than ever that she had the reassuring luxury of her powers.

 _Soon_.

Stepping back hurriedly, she watches as the flames lick towards the door to the bathroom beside the office the blonde works obliviously in. When they reach the hard wood that creates a barrier, they begin to flicker upwards, and Regina swallows; waiting for the scent of smoke. It doesn't take long, and she wrings her hands nervously as she takes a further couple of steps back, waiting for the thickening flames to catch the younger woman's attention.

She is rewarded after a further minute that feels like a lifetime.

Catching a lull in Emma's humming, Regina holds her breath as the telling sound of paper being discarded onto the floor sounds from beyond the office door, followed by the light thud of footsteps. She tenses when the handle to the door jerks up and down; the stopper wedged firmly beneath preventing the blonde from escaping as she is unable to push the heavy wood any more than an inch open.

"Fuck."

The younger woman exclaims, her voice carrying a note of surprise more so than fear, and the shimmying of the door intensifies. Taking her cue, Regina stalks swiftly over to a small, glass box in the corner and flips it open to expose a lever to sound the alarms.

"Showtime."

She whispers, pulling the lever and wincing as a shrill wail bursts through the quiet murmur of the flames.

Turning back to the door that continues to rattle uselessly with the blonde's effort to throw it open, Regina bites her lip as the smoke billowing up against the bathroom door is much thicker than she'd been expecting, and the heat is a little alarming even from where she stands a good few metres away.

She begins to count to ten; providing herself a believable delay before entering.

When she gets to seven, the increasingly frantic shuddering of the door suddenly stops. Frowning, her eyes stinging a little as her lungs ache with the black wafts of smoke that whisper down the hallway towards her, the brunette takes an anxious couple of steps towards the door, cocking her head as she waits- a little nervously- for the younger woman's escape attempts resume.

Nothing.

Only silence.

Panicking now, the Mayor notes with a wave of fear that the door is stuck as she had meant for it to be, but that it has cracked open a couple of inches; pulling in the heavy smoke and beckoning the flames.

"Oh god."

Regina frets, forgoing her countdown as she rushes for the door, shying away from the heat of the fire as she bends to wrestle free the door stopper with her heart in her throat.

 _Come on, why aren't you making any noise? Why aren't you trying to get_ out _?!_

She worries, alarm bells now going off in her head as well as in her ears as she wonders how long it would take someone to become incapacitated through smoke inhalation, especially if stood breathing in air rushing in through a gap to their escape.

 _You might need to start worrying about_ yourself _on that front, too..._

She frets nervously, clenching her teeth as she struggles to wiggle the door stopper out of the way. She resorts to kicking at it frantically to try and free it from its deep wedge that holds it stuck, all the while straining her ear for some sort of sound from the other side of the door.

Nothing.

Silence.

* * *

Landing neatly on the grass, Emma straightens up and pulls her shirt back into place before turning to the small window through which she's just jumped. It is a narrow, high gap, but she's climbed in and out of worse in her time.

"What the  _hell_?"

She muses distractedly, her face an open picture of surprise as she can't quite comprehend what's just happened. She'd noticed the telling smell of smoke while glancing idly over a repairs docket for the clock tower, and had pushed herself up to investigate. The bright flare of flames glimpsed through the crack in the door had caught her out entirely; completely mystified about why and how they might have started. This puzzle had seemed secondary to taking some form of action, and she'd looked around the room for another option while continuing her seemingly doomed battle with the door. It had been almost immediately obvious that the main window wouldn't be an option as thick bars blocked the way from top to bottom, and even if she  _was_  able to squeeze between them, she has snuck her way in to enough places to know that they're the sort that don't open.

 _Not an option_.

She'd catalogued thoughtfully, and she'd done so feeling a lot calmer than the woman standing unbeknownst to her on the other side of the door. She is woman for whom danger is something that wears a false face and smoothe tongue; recoiling apprehensively from others, but viewing most  _physical_  threats and compromising situations as simple puzzles to be solved. She has made a lot of choices in life that have caught her in a pinch, and she has learnt to stay level-headed and alert rather than to allow panic to creep in where it might for others. Taking another look at her surroundings, she'd noted that the narrow letterbox style pane above the main window sported hinges, and so likely was able to open and close just fine.

_Sorted. Now how?_

Her mind had ticked over smoothly, and green eyes had flickered down to the chair in the middle of the room and back up to the window.

_That should work._

And she'd stopped her incessant wrestling with the door in favour of carrying the chair over to the window and carefully navigating her way out and onto the safety of the lawn.

"This whole trip is just getting weirder and weirder..."

She sighs, before stilling and cocking her head; sure she's just heard a voice from inside the building.

* * *

"Emma!?"

Regina cries as she finally falls through the door; staggering slightly before looking around for the blonde. Her eyes are wide with fear and red with smoke, and in her panic she doesn't pay the suggestive placement of the chair beneath the window any notice. Her mind is on a single track right now; finding the girl and getting them both out of here. Behind her, she hears something pop loudly as it is consumed by the flames and she jumps. She's scared now- utterly and unabashedly terrified- and she scans the room feverishly for the blonde as a series of nasty, retching coughs wrack through her lungs.

"Emma?!"

* * *

Eyes widening further as surprise turns to horror, Emma deduces that it definitely  _had_  been the voice of the Mayor calling out from inside, and she takes a few, numb steps backwards as she tries and fails to wrap her head around the events of the last five minutes.

She doesn't waste time searching for an answer to the million questions buzzing in her mind-  _like crickets, those thoughts are like crickets_ \- and instead runs around the building and up the front steps before it even occurs to her that going back inside might be too big of a risk to take. When the idea  _does_  occur to her, she brushes it away carelessly.

_Regina's in there. She's in there._

This thought springs to the forefront of her mind and stays there, glaring and red, and any danger she might put herself in with her next series of actions is drowned out almost entirely.

_She needs help._

From the west, the sound of sirens starts up and becomes increasingly louder, but she's not willing to wait for backup, and simply throws open the door to the building and rushes in.

Her immediate- and involuntary- reaction is to cringe; the heat terrible and foreboding and the roaring of the flames battling for dominance over the wail of the fire alarm. Worst is the smoke, though. Thick and black and deadly. Holding her sleeve over her nose and mouth, she hurries onwards towards the office door which now stands ajar.

_She must have come looking for me. Come to find me. Coincidence? Or did she hear the alarm?_

_She must have opened the door..._

Staggering into the office, she finds the brunette slumped against the cabinets, holding her coat up over her mouth. This seems to be doing little to help as she coughs fitfully with her eyes clenched shut and streaming.

"Regina!"

The blonde has to shout to be heard over the chaos, and she hurries over and pulls at the Mayor with her eyes slitted against the sting of the smoke and her lungs screaming at her to get the hell out of there.

"Come on!"

She yells in the brunette's ear, tugging at her clumsily so that she supports the darker woman at the waist and struggles to guide her back through the door and down the inferno of the hallway.

As they spill out onto the steps, three shocked looking men rush to greet them; two carrying a heavy fire hose.

"There's no one else in there."

Emma advises huskily, before leading Regina out of the way and around the corner where she orders her to sit on a small, green bench with a donation plaque that has become illegible with time.

"Holy shit."

She wheezes, falling onto the bench beside the brunette who sits doubled over at the waist, panting heavily.

"Are you ok?"

The younger woman asks uncertainly, placing her hand on the Mayor's back tentatively as she waits for an answer.

"It was so fast. The flames grew so fast..."

Regina croaks, and Emma nods soberly and agrees

"Yeah, they did. What the hell do you think  _happened_?"

She asks with a hint of curiosity, accompanied by a clear note of shaken relief.

It is the curiosity that gets through to Regina, and she sits back up with her brow furrowed and gives the younger woman a hard, troubled stare. The blonde's eyes are slightly red as she is sure her own are also, but she seems otherwise unharmed, and has more or less resumed breathing normally.

 _Because she escaped. She must have climbed out of the window- Miss Swan seems to have a_ habit _of doing that- but what if... What if she_ hadn't _? What if we'd been stuck in there... What if..._

The enormity of her flawed plan overwhelms her and she suddenly fears she might be sick.

"Regina? You ok?"

Emma asks with a frown, and the brunette is unable to find her voice- to find words- as she struggles to deal with her own foolish decisions.

 _It was supposed to go smoothly. Supposed to be_ safe _! Supposed to give you a fright and allow me to save you. To help you. To rescue you from a threat that was never truly there..._

_... You came and helped me. Saved me... You-_

"-Woah, hey. It's all good!"

The blonde assures hurriedly as troubled silence breaks into a wounded noise of regret, and she pats the Mayor's shoulder awkwardly, doing her best to look reassuring.

"You're fine!"

She smiles encouragingly, and Regina lowers her face into her hands so that she won't be forced to look at the girl.

_Oh god. Oh god. Oh god._

"Madame Mayor, are you alright?"

One of the firefighters comes hurrying over to check, his cheeks blackened a little, but his seemingly calm demeanour suggesting that the fire has been doused out successfully.

"I'll call for Dr Whale."

He informs in the face of her silence, and Regina removes her hands from her face and snaps irritably

"I'm not  _injured_. I have no need for a medic."

"Good, but we should probably just check to be-"

"-She's ok."

Emma interrupts, sensing the mounting tension in the woman sat beside her and getting the feeling that it is more a struggle to process events that has the Mayor in her fragile state than anything a doctor might be able to help with. This is something she can understand perfectly, and she knows from experience that stepping back from the situation tends to help when your nerves are fried.

"She just needs a stiff drink."

She jokes, and the firefighter raises a brow and throws the Mayor a nervous glance as he imagines she's likely to completely lose it at the curious young woman making such foolish implications.

"I believe so."

Regina nods woodenly, offering the blonde a wan smile before looking up at the now very confused looking firefighter.

"Thank you for your swift response, Geoffery."

"... It's my job."

He replies uncertainly, wondering if the Mayor might be feeling a little lightheaded after all as she has yet to give her companion a piece of her mind.

"Come on."

Emma beckons as she pushes herself up. She waits for Regina to do the same as the man frowning with incomprehension makes his way back to his colleagues.

"I packed whisky before we left my apartment while you were in the bathroom. I'd say how's a good time for it."


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dun dun duuuuun! Enjoy! Please review :)

The walk back to the blonde's guest room is an awkward one, filled with a tension that neither woman is entirely sure how to express. For Regina, it is a complex feeling about a simple fact; she'd been very close to causing the younger woman harm. After everything that has come to pass between them, and after everything she's done to try and do her best where Emma is concerned, she had been reckless in her wish- her  _need_ \- to try and get her girl back. She has a feeling that the curious turn of events had actually resulted in  _herself_  being in greater danger than the blonde had been, but this is only through circumstance and Miss Swan's seemingly innate urge to clamber out of small spaces and cause concern to any around her. It doesn't matter though. What  _matters_  is how things  _could_  have gone. The chair the younger woman had used for leverage  _could_  very easily not have been there. The wedge- small and unimportant looking as it had been-  _could_  have remained stuck.

_The firefighters showed up, they would have helped._

Yes, they probably would have, and most likely in plenty of time... But the thought of what might have been is still a terrible one.

_I told Henry cutting her brakes would be too dangerous, and then I go and do what I did... Because I was getting desperate. I was hurting. I was seeing what I wanted and feeling so hopelessly far from getting it, and I convinced myself everything would be okay._

She says nothing, simply walking alongside Emma, who studies her surroundings pensively.

For the blonde, it is a complex fact but a simple feeling; she's confused. Nothing since she's come here has made any sense, and the more she thinks about it, the stranger everything seems. A fire starting while she had been working in an abandoned office is just the tip of the iceberg. There have been a whole number of curiosities and inconsistencies... A whole host of red flags. She doesn't understand some of the things Regina says, but it's more than that. She doesn't understand a lot of the ways Regina makes her  _feel_. She is still no closer to figuring out the first thing about Alice, and is once again almost certain that the girl doesn't exist. She's not forgotten the little illustration that the Mayor had shown her and the fright it had given her, and she's not been able to put to rest the way one thing after another seems to be instilling a queer sense of deja vu.

_It's not just Regina, either. It's Ruby. It's granny. It's the weird school teacher seeming much too friendly._

_Everything seems wrong here. It seems dusty and old. It seems stuck._

Noticing the way Regina throws her the occasional strained glance, she forces a smile, nodding towards the Diner just over the road.

"Come on, it will be ok."

She assures, and she supposes this is an odd term of phrase for the situation, but she also hopes her own words are the truth.

The brunette wishes for much the same; her heart aching miserably as she lets Emma take the lead up the shallow steps to the door.

* * *

Once inside the younger woman's cosy room, the Mayor removes her coat which smells strongly of soot and smoke.

_And guilt. It reeks of guilt. I shall never wear it again..._

Beneath she wears a pretty burgundy shirt, and she catches the way Emma studies her appreciatively and offers a smirk that doesn't fully blossom.

"There's only one glass in the bathroom-"

The blonde informs her as she pulls the promised whisky from her bag and places it on the dresser

"-I don't mind sipping from the bottle, but if that bothers you, I guess I can go down and steal an extra glass."

"No... It's ok."

Regina replies; thoughts of the paper cups used in the motel where she'd left Emma all those years ago springing painfully to mind, along with their previous nipping from the neck of a bottle of wine. She remembers how much  _affection_  had been written across the younger woman's face as she'd lain beneath her in the secluded dirt amongst the trees, even when the hateful mark of the crop had coloured her fair skin and she'd so recently been scared out of her wits.

 _I had to do it, Emma. I_ had _to. I would never wish you harm, but I can't_ stand _how things are between us now. Every smile you give me is so pretty, so alluring, and yet so_ devoid _of the warmth you once offered me. Every look, every word... They're lacking. They're so wonderful to hear and see, but they're so far removed from the way things once were. I miss you. I miss you so_ much _. And I can't believe I've failed yet again to bring you back to me._

 _It hurts_.

"We can share, otherwise."

The blonde interrupts as she comes back from the bathroom with a small water glass in her hand. She means for the grin she applies to accompany her words to be suggestive, but she's a little too thrown by the events of the morning to fully manage it, and she ends up just looking tentative.

"Whatever you prefer."

Regina sighs, and she watches as the blonde pours an extremely indulgent measure into the glass and knocks back almost all of it. Holding out the remaining finger of whisky, Emma climbs past her prim perch on the bed to rest against the headboard.

"Regina... What's going on here?"

She asks quietly, and the brunette stills midway through lowering the glass from her lips and tenses visibly.

"What do you mean, dear?"

She asks in a voice that's made of stone, and Emma remains silent for a moment before shaking her head.

"Never mind. Pour me another."

Her tone is resigned- exhausted- and Regina looks down thoughtfully at the whisky in her hand, before simply moving up the bed to rest beside the blonde and passing her the bottle. Emma takes a long nip before propping it casually between her crossed legs.

"... There is no Alice, is there?"

She asks eventually, staring down at where her boots endanger the bedding; a stark contrast to the Mayor's sleek heels.

"... I told you... The name means nothing..."

Regina replies slowly, dark eyes trained on the blonde's profile as the latter's brow furrows.

"You did. But-"

"-I miss her. I miss her terribly."

"But-"

Not knowing how to answer Emma's questions, the brunette cuts her off in the way she has learnt to be most effective. Reaching down blindly and removing the whisky bottle from between them as she moves to straddle the blonde, she takes a quick nip to soothe her looming migraine before dipping her head and sharing the burn. She can tell from the way Emma remains stiff and slow to respond beneath her that the younger woman's mind is churning, but she doesn't know what else to do.

"I believe you owe me..."

She murmurs in the blonde's ear, and this earns her a light chuckle that helps to mask the bitter taste of unanswered questions between them. When Emma moves to reciprocate her affection a little more willingly, that unease is replaced by a warm veil of passion, but it's not long before that passion is once again taken over, this time by delayed adrenalin. There is a hunger, but also a precariously contained chaos in the younger woman's touch as she flips them dominantly, and Regina privately suspects she has not been so unaffected by the danger of the morning as she's come across.

"I'm glad you're okay."

She admits before she can help herself, and the blonde's response is swift and cold; immediately cutting her off with a mixture of teeth and tongue while freeing her roughly of her shirt.

 _I'm glad you're okay... How many times have I heard you tell me so? How many times did you have to say it for me to truly believe you_ meant _it? You_ always _meant it. You cared. Things went wrong, but you cared. You were worried about me. Constantly_ worried _about me, and I never knew whether to smile or scream._

Clenching her eyes shut to try and quell the insane rambling of her mind, the blonde lowers herself down the Mayor's slender form, stopping for a moment to tug at expensive lace with her teeth before moving further south. She rids the brunette of her dress pants with a roughness that mirrors the clench of her jaw as she strives to keep from disappearing into her thoughts.

_The way I held you- half dragging you- today was almost exactly the way I held you- drug you- from the menacing headlights of the car._

_What car? What are you_ talking _about?_

_The car. The Dodge. Max's leash sparked against the asphalt and-_

"-Uh!"

Regina groans as slim fingers enter her none too gently, and the blonde orders herself to focus on this delicious sound and nothing else.

 _No more_ thinking _! No more!_

The darker woman's breath quickens to a wanton panting, and she glances down to where Emma works between her legs; still not used to the new dominance displayed by the blonde, but currently very much in favour as all of the guilt and anxiety that has been building up inside her since she'd made her decision to stage the fire has a blissful outlet for release.

Smirking as Regina begins to move involuntarily beneath her, the younger woman readies to go in for the kill.

_Moving. Moving like she did when she asked me to show her how I like it. Moving so pleasurably, so-_

"-Ah!"

The Mayor cries, a shudder racking through her as she goes over; drowning out Emma's furious growl of 'enough!'.

Trembling, a strong wave of aftershock hits the brunette and she jerks violently; frowning through her ecstasy as something thuds to the floor.

The blonde, too, cocks her head, before pushing herself up onto her knees and shoving her hair out of her face. Her eyes maintain a slight glitter of trouble, but when the brunette smiles up at her with a sinfully sated pull to her lips, she responds with a devilish grin of her own.

"Better than what the doctor would have prescribed you?"

"Much."

Regina nods, before glancing over at her coat hung on the back of the door as her cell beeps from inside. Moving out from under the blonde, she pads over- shirt still gaping open- and checks it with a frown.

Three missed calls, all from Henry.

Two texts.

Henry 10.08:

_How did it go? Are you OK?_

Henry 11.12:

_MOM?!_

Pursing her lips, she turns back to the blonde who remains knelt on the bed.

"I'm afraid I really must be going, dear. I'll see you later."

She sighs, buttoning up her shirt and donning her coat; the stench of guilt still lingering.

"Okay... But what are we-"

"-Later. Emma."

She replies, quietly but firmly, before offering a tight smile and letting herself out.

Staring at the closed bedroom door for a good couple of minutes, the blonde chews her lip as she struggles to dampen the carnival of insanity inside her head. Striving to pull herself together, she slides from the bed, takes a nip of whisky, before getting down onto her knees and lifting the grossly prim bed-skirt to see what had fallen during the Mayor's ecstasy.

"What the..."


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was a very stressful chapter to write, haha! (Not helped by losing half of it when fanfic logged me out and it had to be rewritten- not cool...). I guess this is the biggest chapter plots-wise so far and I was a bit nervous going into it. I hope it works and reads nicely :) Reviews would be really nice :)

" _What the..."_

Emma croaks, feeling as though all of the blood has rushed from her body. Crawling a little further beneath the bed- the top of her head brushing the slats- she reaches for the item at the very back by the wall with trembling fingers. Retrieving it, she works her way out from the darkness and sits back on her heels, her eyes wide as she stares at the book in her hand. It's old with a tattered cover, but she remembers it well. Remembers reading it, and remembers  _losing_  it. Opening it up, her breath stops; spying the spiky letters scrawled at the top of the second page in blue ink.

_Someone left this in the park, and the mention of trauma, gore and betrayal had me thinking you might like it._

_Can you move the car to the Other Place when you wake up?_

_I'll be back around 12._

_X_

She recognises that writing immediately, of course she does. She's received dozens of notes in that same, strangely childlike block print.

"Neal...?"

Her voice wavers as she traces blue ink with her finger. The last time she'd seen the book- Euripides'  _Medea_ \- had been back in her apartment in Boston. Her old apartment. The apartment she no longer thinks about.

The apartment where life... Stopped.

"How can... How can this be? How could it be  _here_?!"

She whispers, looking from the book in her hands to her surroundings with mounting panic.

_It's gone now, but there was a birdbath outside. That's where Cass would sometimes sleep._

_Those pillows with the dandelion and daisy used to be a set of three. There was a tulip one as well, but Ruby spilt her wine on it when we'd sat in the dark and cried._

_I brought this book along with about twenty more; the only things from that life that were really worth keeping._

_I brought them here, having packed them into two neat stacks in the back of Regina's car. I stacked them in the foot wells so as not to bother Cass. Regina didn't want her on the seats, but Caskett wriggled free. I think she only pretended to mind... I think she knew that there was a whole lot more chaos to come._

_She offered me an out and I took it. I wouldn't have, but she called me up on my reality. She spoke down to me, but she meant well. She came in while I was sat with Mr Clayton and she knew... She knew what was happening. She wasn't grey, though. Not a grey person. She didn't leave me to it. She stopped me. And I was mad, and I was embarrassed, but mostly I just didn't know what to do with the fact that she wanted to help me._

_She actually saw me for me. As an equal._

_Regina brought me here and ordered Granny to give me a room, and she pretended to give me a job when really it was all a ruse. It was a cover. She was giving me an excuse to lean on her and not feel awful about it, just as she was giving herself an excuse for letting me in._

_She helped me. Hell, she fucking_ saved _me. She saved me and we_ both _knew it, but she never made me say it. Never made me feel small. She came and got me from this room and took me for ice cream._

_By then I knew I liked her._

_I liked her and I stole the gin from Mary Margaret, and I planned to seduce her but it all went wrong._

_She yelled at me,_ screamed _at me._

 _She told me I had ruined_ everything _, and I believed her because that was exactly how I felt myself at the time._

_She yelled at me and I ran._

_Ran, ran, ran._

_Back to Boston._

_Back to that old apartment, that old life, back to where I last remember this book being._

_It hurt. It hurt deep._

_But she came for me. For_ me _! She came looking for me, and she found me and she apologised and she took me back with her. She looked after me, and eventually... She explained._

 _She explained_ why _she'd yelled at me, and it made sense in the end._

_It made sense when she explained about H-_

"-No..."

She chokes, struggling to breathe, and she catches hold of the side of the bedframe to keep herself from keeling over. She grips the frame hard with her head bowed, feeling as though she might pass out or vomit.

"No, no, no..."

She sobs, before hurling the book away from her and staring at it accusingly.

 _It can't be here. It_ can't! _It was lost in Boston..._

She shakes her head desperately as she tries to force the damned thing to disappear through sheer logic and sanity.

_That's what that knocking noise was. It must have slipped between the mattress and the slats the last time I was here._

_That's what I heard. What Henry heard, too... It-_

"Oh, fuck..."

She pleads, covering her face with her hands before pushing herself up and brushing herself off frantically.

"Nope. Nope, it's just...  _Nope_!"

She mutters desperately, staggering a little as she shakes her head with her eyes wide and teeth clenched.

"Nope."

Tripping over her own feet, she knocks the vase on the dresser over, sending chrysanthemums and water cascading down the paisley wallpaper. Beneath, a small etching stares back at her in the varnish. ES 4 RM, scratched out to form RL instead. And, those initials could belong to anyone-  _anyone!_ \- but oh god, she remembers Ruby scratching them in with the sharp point of her name tag, shrieking with laughter in the face of Emma's own growling at her to grow the fuck up and that there was  _nothing_  going on with her and the damned Mayor.

_She teased me something rotten, but in the end she scratched out the M for Mills with a bold L, claiming I loved her. I smacked her on the hip and she pulled me downstairs for hot chocolate. She made a heart out of the whipped cream._

"No!"

She scolds her mind; so intent on humouring this utter insanity.

 _Yes, Swan._ Yes _. Don't you see? The lost time. The money. The note. It was Regina, it was_ always _Regina. Don't you see?!_

"I can't..."

She moans, her terrified denial breaking into chesty coughs as her lungs still ache from their torment this morning, and oh god...

"Regina set the fire..."

She vocalises this revelation numbly, thinking about last night, thinking about the night before, thinking about everything the brunette has said to her since coming to find her in Boston and suddenly understanding why everything had seemed wrong.

"I... I..."

She stammers, but there's no getting away from the truth. It's all around her. Choking her. Smothering her. Memories rush back to her in tidal waves of emotion and she backs into the corner and slides stiffly down the wall until she sits shaking and cradling her knees.

Eventually, she reaches for her phone.

* * *

"Hello..."

Regina smirks after glancing at her phone to check the caller ID.

Her smile swiftly fades; frowning as she struggles to decipher most of what Emma says to her.

Screams at her.

She is unable to catch a lot of the blonde's words as they are replaced by terrible sobs, and she falls down into her chair numbly as she tries her best to calm the younger woman.

"Emma!  _Emma!_... Hush! Slow down, dear, I can't understand you!"

She pleads, but she's worried that she might understand just fine. Maybe not Emma's words, but the emotion behind them...

"H-how  _could_  you?! H-how is this even... How... I d-don't... H-Henry!? I... I...  _Regina_!"

The girl snarls down the phone, her voice laden with salt, and she sounds to the Mayor like a wounded animal howling with their final anguish.

Their Swan Song.

"Emma, please..."

She begs, before staring at the phone in her hand numbly when it goes dead.

"Oh..."

She breathes, her face ashen and mouth slack. Looking up as Henry comes hurrying into the room, she simply stares at him.

"Mom, what's wrong? You were shouting..."

"I... I wasn't... I... She knows..."

"Who knows?"

"Emma. I don't... I don't know  _how_. She... Oh, Henry, I need to talk to her!"

Regina frets, not bothering to try the blonde's cell again as she knows it's unlikely Emma will answer her right now, and instead dialling the Diner. Ruby answers on the third ring.

"Granny's, can I take your-"

"-Miss Lucas."

The brunette cuts her off, and there's a pause, before the Waitress replies tentatively

"Mayor Mills?"

"Yes. Listen, dear, I need you to go upstairs and find Emma. I need you to tell her to call me right away and to explain to her  _explicitly_  that I'm not  _asking_ , I'm  _telling_  her she must do so. I need you to do this right away."

"Uh..."

Ruby hesitates, and the Mayor can hear quiet mumbling as she relays something to either Granny or one of the other waitresses. Finally, she's back on the line.

"Regina?"

"I'm here."

"I'm on the restaurant phone, it's not cordless. Can you hang on a second while I go upstairs?"

"Of course. Just hurry."

"OKay."

Ruby agrees, sounding intrigued but ultimately obedient, and the brunette waits with her fists clenched and the dull murmur of background noise in here ear before finally, three minutes later, Ruby returns.

"She's not there."

"What?!"

"Emma. She's not in her room."

"Well, where  _is_  she?!"

Regina demands, aware that Henry stands watching her solemnly in the doorway.

"I dunno."

The waitress chirps unhelpfully, and dark eyes roll before the Mayor offers a curt farewell and hangs up the phone.

"She knows..."

The brunette reiterates numbly, and Henry takes a few anxious steps closer and asks her gently

"Isn't that a  _good_  thing?"

"It's... It's what we wanted."

Regina nods, before looking up and admitting tearfully

"I'm just not sure what's going to  _happen_  now."

"She's upset."

Henry reasons, and he shrugs his shoulders as he reminds his mother that they'd both known this would be inevitable.

"She's upset, and maybe she's angry. But she'll come around. She  _remembers_  now... She remembers  _everything_."

He tags on this last part more as though talking to himself, his eyes widening with the enormity of it all.

_She knows who I am..._

"I need to find her. I'll call Johanna, she can come and watch you, but I-"

"-It's ok, mom. It's barely even lunchtime, I can handle being left to look after myself. Besides, I said I'd go say hi to Pongo, and I want to check the comics that came in yesterday. If I see Emma, I'll call you."

He assures, and he supposes that ordinarily Regina might have more to say on the matter, but as it is, she simply casts him one last glance before nodding and hurrying out the room.

* * *

Walking with his head bent deep in thought, Henry pulls his phone from the pocket of his coat, but his mother hasn't sent him anything to let him know that she's found Emma. Sighing, he makes his way across the beach, before frowning when he glances up at his castle standing stark and withered in the grey light of an oncoming storm. Cocking his head, he slows his pace as he walks on until he is finally sure of what he's seeing.

Clambering up the castle's ladder, he stops with his palms rested on the platform floor, his eyes wide as he peaks into the small shelter beneath the sloping roof.

"Emma?"

He tries softly, regarding the tight ball of leather and curls that shivers in the corner, but he is rewarded no response. Biting his lip tonightfully, he hoists himself all the way in before crawling a little closer on his hands and knees and trying once again.

"Hey... Emma?"

He touches her knee and she retracts even further into herself. Sighing, Henry pulls his own legs up to his chest comfortably; taking a seat, and simply waiting. Eventually, he's rewarded, as the blonde raises her jaw from the safety of her legs and regards him uncertainly; eyes pink and her bottom lip bloody from where she's bitten it incessantly.

"... Henry?"


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was really looking forward to this chapter after finishing the last, but once actually faced with it, it turned out to be harder than I thought it would be. I hope it reads well :) reviews would be lovely :)

_"... Henry?"_

"Hi."

Henry answers quietly, raising his hand in an awkward little wave, before hugging his knees once again in much the same way as the blonde does to her own.

"My mom's looking for you."

He states eventually to break the silence, and he cocks his jaw as he notes the way Emma carefully keeps her eyes lowered after her initial acknowledgment. He wants to tell her that it's ok; that she can look at him, but he can't. He doesn't really know what to say- what to do- as a part of him wants nothing more than to crawl over and hug the woman sat shivering before him, while another part of him still sees her as little more than a stranger and resents this fact.

 _The fact. I resent the_ fact _. Not Emma, though..._

No, not at all. There had been a short period a while ago when he'd felt stung by her rejection, and the resultant hurt had twisted into something unkind and accusatory. Regina had sat down and spoken to him about it all, though. She'd sat and explained things the way Emma had once explained them herself to Ruby. She'd asked him if he was happy- in general, in life, was he happy?- and he'd affirmed that he was with an irritated frown, only to have Regina smile at him thinly and tell him that he might have his mothers-  _both_  of them- to thank for that. He'd pushed for her to explain, and she'd spoken of his security while in her care and his lack for wanting anything but to know his birth parents, which she'd assured to understand.

"She was giving you your best chance, Henry."

His mother had sighed as they'd sat in her study what seems like a lifetime ago. She'd given him his first, abridged explanation of how things had been for the blonde when they had met, before stating quietly

 _"I knew Emma very well. She was a good person, and she cared. About you, about me, about others. She did what was best for you, but that doesn't mean it was what was best for_ her _. I think she lost a part of herself when she gave you up, Henry, because she_ loved _you. She loved you so much that she was willing to lose you. I understand how you must sometimes feel, sweetheart, but I_ also _understood_ Emma _. It's easy to conjure up alternative scenarios and 'what ifs', but in this case, that wouldn't be fair. Not on me, as I have raised you as my own and have done so very well, and not on her. There were no 'what ifs' in Miss Swan's world at the time that would have been wise for_ either _of you. That is a terrible position to be in, Henry; to sit on your own in a cell with a thousand 'what ifs' to grasp at desperately, and having to refuse each and every one. That is a heavy burden to take to bed with you each night, I'd imagine."_

Of course, Regina has her  _own_  burdens. Her  _own_  series of unfortunate events. But he loves her fiercely anyway.

"Do you mind if I text my mom to let her know I found you? She was really worried. I won't tell her you're  _here_ , just that you're ok."

Henry asks after a long stretch of silence, and the blonde frowns as though suffering a headache as she tries to wrap her mind around the kid's words.

 _I'm ok? Am I?_ Am _I okay?_

She doesn't exactly know, but she nods woodenly as Henry regards her intently; waiting for an answer.

"Good."

He smiles, tapping lightly at his phone before slipping it back into his coat pocket and rubbing his hands together briskly.

"Archie thinks we might get snow tonight!"

He continues amiably, and green eyes flicker up to meet his for a second as Emma wonders why in the hell the kid's talking to her at  _all_.

_Maybe he doesn't know..._

The thought breeds a new flash of panic low in her gut, but she appeases it swiftly; remembering a few of Henry's more curious statements since she's arrived and fairly certain that the boy knows  _exactly_  who she is.

_Then... Why is he smiling at me?_

"Henry..."

She tries again, and her voice sounds rusty as though it hasn't been used in a long time. She falters for how to go on, feeling like she might cry and warning herself furiously not to dare. To do so would be highly inappropriate. She has no  _right_  to be the one crying here.

But then, what  _can_  she do? What  _can_  she say...?

"I'm sorry..."

It's little more than a whisper, but the young brunet jerks as though she's screamed it in his face. Blinking as he watches the blonde go back to chewing on her lip- sharp teeth working soft flesh in a harsh, punishing ferver- he shakes his head and prompts softly

"You remember, don't you? My mom... She made you remember somehow..."

"This can't be real..."

"It is, though. You  _know_  it is."

"How is that  _possible_?!"

"Magic."

Henry informs the blonde solemnly, but he's not at all affronted when she shakes her head dismissively in response.

"There is no magic in this world, kid..."

"Not yet."

"...Why did you come looking for me?"

Emma asks quietly, fresh blood welling at her mouth and salt glistening through thick lashes.

"I didn't, really. I came out here to think about stuff, but I saw you when I got a little way down the beach and thought you might need someone to talk to. I know  _I_  do."

"Why would you want to talk to  _me_?"

"... Why  _wouldn't_  I want to?"

Silence, and Emma knows she should be the one to break it; she's the adult here, she's the one that's got something to make up for. The words don't come though, only terrible guilt and overwhelming confusion as she wonders if she's slowly losing any sanity she might once have possessed.

 _How can this_ be _?_

_Why?_

_Why would she send me away if everything I think I remember is true?_

In the end, Henry speaks. He may be ten, but he holds no grudge towards the blonde for the fact that she's inadvertently making him do most of the work. She looks tired and frightened. Sick. This is all a huge blow in the guts for her, whereas he has had time to process and adapt. There's something else, too. Something he can't put into words or fully grasp being so young, but it is something he feels deep down even if he can't express it aloud or even to himself: she is  _alone_  in this. He has had Regina to explain things to him and talk things through with him whenever he's doubted himself, or Emma, or their imminent bond in time. The blonde has had no one. She's had no one to reason things over with; no one to listen to why things went the way that they had and give her an assurance to quieten the guilt that glitters in her eyes. His mother might  _once_  have told her that everything was okay- that her decisions were understandable, and not born of some hideous evil or neglect- but those conversations will have been lost for the last ten years. That assurance will have been forgotten.

"I know why you did it."

"... How  _could_  you? How could you  _know_  and still  _look_  at me?"

"Because I understand. My mom told me why you did it; to give me my best chance."

"...And you believe her?"

Emma asks; dumbfounded.

 _Why, though? Why are you so shocked? Isn't that what you've always told yourself about your_ own _parents? Isn't that all you've ever wanted to hear, and all would be forgiven?_

 _... Sure... Because I knew deep down it would never_ happen _. So it was safe to tell myself those things._

_Safe to pretend like I wouldn't be angry._

"I'm not angry, if that's what you're worried about."

Henry interrupts her thoughts quietly, and finally she looks at him- allowing him a proper, naked study of her eyes and everything in them- and he smiles shyly and shifts so that he sits with his legs crossed and his hands buried in the pockets of his coat.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you for a long time. I'm really happy that you're here and I'll finally get to know you. I feel like I kind of do already. My mom talks about you a lot."

"I just... I just... I don't  _understand_! I don't understand how I could suddenly  _remember_  all these things that I know must have happened, but they  _can't_  have, and-"

"-They happened."

" _How_?! I-"

"-I think my mom better explain all that... Will you come? Will you come back with me? Please?"

"I... I don't-"

But she breaks off, frozen, as Henry leans forward and reaches for her hand; squeezing it softly.

"I'm so sorry..."

She repeats, before her heart stops and her breath gets caught in her throat when the boy offers her a timid glance followed by a tentative embrace.

"H-Hen..."

She chokes into the wool of his coat, and her mind races from one hazy, impossible scene to another. Regina's bed, her office, her kitchen... Regina telling her that she  _understood_. That she wasn't the terrible person she was sure that she was. That she'd done the right thing. Regina telling her these wonderful, impossible things about the infant- the baby- asleep in the warm comfort of her care.

" _Please_  don't be upset. We're  _happy_ ; we're happy to have you back. To have you home."

Henry assures with a salted note to his own voice as he murmurs into the blonde's hair. Hair that smells like rain and honey. Not like Regina's, as he had recently pondered, and the leather of Emma's coat is a far cry to wrapping his arms around the soft wool of his mother's sweaters and jackets, or the silk of her shirts. It's still nice, though. Wonderful to have both parents after so many years of waiting.

"Come on. It's cold out here. Let's go home."

Henry urges finally; unwilling to pull himself away from the blonde despite her rigid response to his embrace. He speaks the truth, though. The air is thick with a bitter chill, and there is so much to discuss back at the mansion.

"My mom has a lot to explain to you."

He says as he clambers down from the castle onto packed dirt.

 _I don't see how she could_ ever _explain this to me..._

Emma muses solemnly, but she doesn't say so out loud. She merely resigns to accompanying Henry back across the beach with the wind whipping at their hair and ruffling their jackets.

Up above, a seagull lets loose a harrowing scream, and she can't help but fear that this might be some sort of sign of things to come.

A warning.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit! I'm so sorry! I just realised that I never uploaded this chapter and posted the following one as chapter 38. This is the missing piece of the puzzle between the two! That will teach me for writing when I'm pretending to work! So sorry, guys!

"Henry!"

Regina cries as she hurries down the steps of the mansion, still in the neat grey slip-on shoes she only wears indoors, with her eyes wide and tellingly pink.

"Mom."

He greets, and he pats her arm gently, stopping midway up to the front door and standing before the brunette who shivers in just the thin wool of her cardigan.

"Where's Emma?"

She frets, and Henry glances over his shoulder towards the main gate and sighs.

"Back there. Well, she was. I think she still will be. She fell back when I started up the driveway."

"Okay."

Regina nods, striving to gather her emotions and keep them in check.

"Go on in and turn on the coffee machine. You know which button to press?"

"Yes, mom, I'm ten."

He grumbles, and she nods once again distractedly, before hurrying down the drive in her slippers and calling over her shoulder with admirable bossiness.

"And take off your shoes!"

Turning out onto the street, she stills as she spies the blonde; Emma standing hesitantly twenty yards or so away with her hands in her pockets and a bright splash of crimson colouring her chin. Closing her eyes and swallowing audibly, Regina's shoulders drop and she walks over slowly, shaking her head as her eyes well up with tears.

"Emma..."

She whispers as she comes to stand in front of the blonde, and the younger woman's own lashes glisten with salt as she looks purposefully away; green eyes cast to the left as her chest hitches inside dark red leather from long ago.

"You remember..."

Regina breathes, and she catches a small noise escape the blonde's throat, but the only other reaction she is rewarded with is a nervous bouncing of the younger woman's foot.

"Emma, I-"

"-How?... How is this... What...How?"

The blonde frowns, her voice brittle and cracked, and the Mayor sighs as she wraps her arms around herself and promises gently

"I... I can explain. Or at least, I can  _try_  to. But it's cold out here, and this isn't a conversation to be had stood out in the street. I'll tell you anything you want to know, Emma. Just come in with me, and-"

"-I... I don't know."

The younger woman shakes her head, pulling away when the brunette insinctively reaches out for her. It is a response that causes the Mayor's face to fall as she casts her eyes woefully to the ground, and Emma fidgets with her jacket uncomfortably, opening her mouth to say something before closing it again.

"This is impossible, Regina."

She eventually states quietly, and dark eyes find her own once more as the Mayor replies

"It  _should_  be... But it isn't. I've waited ten years to see you again. Would you allow me just a little time to try and explain?"

"To explain  _what_? How I somehow lost all memory of this place, or why you fucking abandoned me in a motel room?"

The blonde doesn't raise her voice, but there is an edge to her tone and a dangerous flicker in her eyes. She waits for the brunette to snarl at her-  _she'd never have let me talk to her like that_...- before she takes a physical step back when Regina's face crumbles and the darker woman takes in a shuddering breath full of anguish.

"I did  _not_  abandon you."

The brunette insists through a hateful veil of salt; shaking her head and taking a step closer to the younger woman and repeating herself a little louder

"I never  _abandoned_  you!"

"You left."

Emma points out, and her voice is a patchwork of iciness and confusion, and the Mayor shakes her head again- violently- and cries in her face

"I  _had_  to! I had to so that you wouldn't get  _hurt_!"

"You don't think that would  _hurt_?"

"You didn't  _know_! You didn't have to deal with it-  _I_  did! I did  _everything_  for you! I loved you!"

Stepping back and wiping away the tears that have spilt down her cheeks, Regina takes in a deep breath and pleads

"I had to wait. I  _had_  to. But I left you that night knowing I would come back for you when I could. Everything I have done since then has been done to bring you back to me. If you would just let me  _explain_..."

"Fine.  _Explain_."

The blonde snaps, and her face is white with numb rage, causing the blood that paints her chin to stand out in stark relief.

Sniffing as the icy wind plays havoc with her hair and beats against her clothes, Regina looks down at her feet clad in their prim grey slip-ons carefully monogramed in white silk thread and shivers.

"I want to. But I want you to listen. I want you to give me a chance... If you remember, then you remember how things were between us. I must have earned at least the right for a  _chance_  from you...?"

"I don't know how in the hell you could  _ever_  explain this to me, no matter  _how_  many chances I give you!"

"... I'm only asking for one. And to be honest, dear, I'm not sure how I plan to tell you everything either. I'm not sure where to even  _begin_. But I have to try, Emma... If you force me to do so while trying to make myself heard over the wind as the tempretature drops while stood out here under-dressed, then I  _will_. If it starts to storm, rain, snow... I'll do it. If you make me, then I will do so. I would  _rather_  we do this inside. I would  _rather_  not be seen out in the street in my slippers with my mascara running. But I will do whatever it takes and whatever you  _want_  in order to try and talk to you. I would rather we sit in the warmth and for you to have cleaned the  _blood_  off your face before doing this. But this has very little to do with what  _I_  would like and what  _I_  would rather, I understand that."

She finishes, by now unable to keep herself from shivering visibly with cold, but she stands her ground and returns the blonde's fierce stare earnestly; silently begging of the younger woman to let her in.

"Come on."

Emma mutters eventually, turning stiffly for the mansion and falling into step beside the brunette while maintaining a careful distance between them.

"I'm not promising I'll stay, but there's nothing I have to gain by forcing you to stand freezing your ass off in the street."

"I would do it, Miss Swan."

"... I know. I believe you. But that's not what I want..."

"No?"

"No. I want answers. I want the truth."

"And I will give you both. But I warn you now... You may not like them."

Regina confesses sadly, stalking up the steps to the mansion and beckoning Emma in after her. She leads them through into the drawing room- the room where they have spent countless hours in the past- and nods at Henry when the boy comes in with two cups of coffee held out carefully in front of him.

"Thank you, dear. Please don't forget to turn off the machine... I wonder, though, Henry. Might you be able to go and fetch us your book?"

"Yes."

He nods, eyes wide and solemn as he disappears upstairs in a shuffle of slippered feet that match his mother's, only his in hunter green.

"Book?"

Emma frowns, sitting uncomfortably on the very edge of the sofa opposite the Mayor.

"Yes, dear."

Regina agrees warily.

"What  _kind_  of book?"

"That, Miss Swan, is really a matter of opinion. Myself, I call it a history book."

"... What does any of this have to do with-"

But the blonde stills as the Mayor raises her palm before folding her hands neatly- nervously- in her lap.

"Do you trust me, Emma?"

"... I  _hardly_  think this is the time to-"

"-I understand that, and I understand how the question might make you angry, but with all due respect, it is  _precisely_  the time to ask such a thing."

"I..."

The blonde falters, watching as Henry re-enters the room with a heavy book held in his arms. He passes it to his mother who exchanges a solemn glance with the boy before dismissing him quietly as she lays yellowed pages and dusty covers down on the table between them.

"Once upon a...  _Fairytales_?"

Emma frowns incredulously, and the brunette hangs her head with an audible sigh before looking back up and asking again

"Do you trust me, Emma?"

"... I know I  _did._  Once."

"I'm still that person... Moreso than you know."

Regina finishes with a small, sad smile, and Emma stares back at her, utterly lost, as she supposes she can see some queer sense of truth in this statement.

_It's almost as if she hasn't aged a day since I last saw her. It-_

"-For old time's sake, do you at least acknowledge that I have never wanted anything but to  _help_  you?"

_Whisky poured down the sink._

_Pretty smirks at leather pants and the offer of clothes and of affection._

_Red wine rich with a tobacco nose and conversations long into the night._

_An embrace in the corner, in bed, under the stars._

_The crack of a whip._

_The chink of two small bottles from the mini fridge being clinked together and the delicious heat of a velvet tongue._

_A kiss._

_A bite._

_A bruise._

"... Yes."

"Yes?"

"You helped me."

"I did."

"Now please... Please tell me... What the  _fuck_  is this all about?"


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As noted on the previous chapter, apologies that chapter 38 was originally left out when uploading. If this one seems familiar- it is! Chapter 38 is new on here, and this is what came after. I'm so sorry for the mess up! Will try harder next time! :p
> 
>  
> 
> All fics back to normal updates now :) That said, I apologise this conversation is dragging out and isn't all just neatly sorted in one chapter. It's fairly stressful to write, so I've tried tackling it in manageable chunks in favor of touching on things only to then potentially have them come up and be furious about later (my pet hate in movies where everything is just a big, sad misunderstanding!). Obviously there will be residual anger and upset on both sides given the nature of the fic and what's happened previously, but I really want to get this main conversation right, so hoping you will bear with me! :) Critique or feedback- other than that it's too short!- would be awesome! :) Thanks, as always, for reading!

"I'm trying to figure out where to start."

Regina murmurs as she takes a sip from her coffee. It's hideously weak and she suspects Henry must have forgotten to check if there were still any beans left to be ground in the machine, but she isn't about to start fussing over such small details now. Instead, she gets up and walks to the liquor cabinet to offer her guest something more palateable while she finishes off her statement with a sad chuckle that has Emma raising a brow incredulously.

"What the fuck are you  _laughing_  about?!"

She snaps angrily, watching as the brunette selects a bottle from the cabinet. The darker woman ignores the gin that seems to be the most popular choice, and this now makes a lot more  _sense_ and Emma shivers with the memory of fleeing from the mansion and wallowing in the bitter taste of the stuff back in her long ago apartment.

_It's really pretty miraculous you didn't wind up crashing the bug on the damned freeway._

_Maybe you would have been better off if you had._

This is rather more morbid than her general thinking has been in a long while, but she supposes that if all the rest of the madness so recently unleashed is true, it makes sense that her thoughts have regressed back to the grey hopelessness of the past.

"I'm not laughing."

Regina replies as she comes back with a bottle of bourbon. It's the same label as they had shared back in the younger woman's nice new apartment where everything had been clean and expensive and suspiciosly reminiscent of a show home.

"You  _were_."

The blonde accuses angrily, and dark tresses capture the cold winter sunlight streaming through large windows as the Mayor placates softly

"Not out of any sense of amusement or joy, I wasn't. I was just scolding myself... I've waited for this moment and this opportunity for so  _long_  now, and I still have no clue what to say and where to begin. I  _had_  a plan. Actually, I've had a whole  _series_  of plans over the years on how to approach this. But seeing you- really  _seeing_  you rather than just trying to imagine your side of things- has suddenly made me realise that none of what I had planned to say or do will work. This isn't going to go how I'd foreseen it would, because in reality I have no control over how you will respond to what I say. You  _can't_  plan for a conversation between two people, only on how you might mean too  _start_  it, and one look at you and my mind has gone blank.

...I'm very afraid. I suppose there's no harm in me telling you that. I can think of only a couple of times that I have been afraid in my adult life, and I suppose half of them involved you. I've not learnt how to  _deal_  with fear, though. It is still something I very rarely feel, and I don't have what I suppose you could call a coping mechanism. I'm not telling you this because I expect you to offer me any sympathy, but more as a disclosure for acting in a way I hadn't planned for. I didn't mean to laugh. I didn't mean for a lot of things that have happened since bringing you here. They weren't what I'd planned, but you frighten me. That's fairly damning given who you are-  _what_  you are- and I suppose the prophecy might be true after all."

"What... What are you  _talking_  about?"

Emma frowns, completely losing her grip on the conversation as it turns once more to some crock of shit she doesn't understand.

"Nothing... That was a foolish place to start... See? You  _can't_  plan for this."

Regina sighs, laughing once again, but it is a nervous sound and the blonde can tell from the way the darker woman holds herself and seems on the brink of tears that she really  _is_  terrified.

"How  _had_  you planned on this going? When you were playing both of us in your head- how did you  _think_  I'd react?"

She asks quietly, and the brunette shrugs as though distancing herself from the situation, before bowing her head with a watery sniff.

"Selfishly. I have a habit of doing that... I would explain everything you needed to know and at first you would be confused and maybe a little accusatory, but ultimately you would tell me that you understood. You... You would tell me that you missed me, and I would tell you I missed you too, and everything would be  _okay_."

She finishes, and now there is a definite touch of salt to her words, and Emma bites at her lip to reopen the graze made by her teeth; focusing on the sharp ache of her own doing to keep herself from lashing out at the woman sat before her.

"How  _could_  I miss you? Until a couple or hours ago, I didn't even know who you  _were_. I have no clue how, or why, or what in the  _hell_  is going on, but I know that  _whatever_  happened to me to make it so that I didn't remember my time here was done to me by  _you_. So how in the hell-  _why_  in the hell- would I miss you?!"

"I  _had_  to do it, Emma."

Regina replies as she lowers her head into her hands. The younger woman looks away; both furious, yet reading the waver in the brunette's voice as helplessness and despair rather than being upset to find herself accused.

"So you keep saying."

She answers eventually, and the Mayor looks back up with her hand covering her mouth and her eyes pink as she asks miserably

"You don't believe me?"

"Actually... I do. I'm not saying I understand. I'm not saying everything will be ok. I'm not allowing you  _any_  other part of how you'd played this in your head. But I do believe you."

Dark eyes close as the brunette swallows. She is crucially aware of the fact that while Emma hasn't been so cruel as to say the actual words to her, the blonde's mentioning that she isn't allowing  _any_  part of the previous way Regina had hoped this would go points to the fact that she is silently asserting that she  _doesn't_  miss her. Whether true or not, the darker woman isn't entirely sure, and she supposes that it is this refusal to believe she might have damaged  _every_  tie between them that still feeds the darkness. There is an arrogance to her that she has never been able to shake, and so she simply resolves to hope that this selfish streak is justified. She just prays the younger woman is wrong.

"I guess  _I'm_  trying to figure out what to say now..."

Emma continues, studying the amber in her glass.

"You don't  _have_  to say anything, dear, you don't have to-"

"-Oh, I  _know_. I'm not worried about trying to make you  _feel_  better-" the blonde assures coldly, "-but the way I see it, I now have two questions in the face of you telling me you 'had to do' whatever you did;  _why_ , and  _how_. I'm trying to figure out which one I want to hear you try and explain first."

The brunette looks back up with a glower that belongs to the Queen, and it is this part of her that yearns to snap at the girl that there is no need for her to use such an ugly tone. Swallowing, her expression softens, and she places her glass on the table- empty now in her nervousness- and folds her hands into her lap.

"I would say 'why' is the most important."

"But, how did you even-"

"-Emma! You can't expect me to answer two very poignant questions at once!"

Regina snaps, and she does so in a way so reminiscent of the way she had once scolded the blonde with a blend of exasperation and deep affection that it causes both of them to fall silent for a moment. Sharing a glance, the brunette acknowledges the small nod the younger woman offers for her to go on, and she continues

" _Why_  I did it?... I did it because I was scared I might hurt you. The reason behind that is tied up in the 'how', but I need you to know first and foremost that the  _reason_  all this happened was because I needed to  _protect_  you. There were things happening back then- to me- that you didn't know about. Bad things. I couldn't-"

"-What bad things?"

The blonde asks, and for a moment the Mayor thinks that she's being understandably argumentative and hostile, but as she finds the younger woman's eyes- narrowed dangerously- she swallows as she realises that the anger written across Emma's face is not directed at her.

"Not like that, dear. What was happening was my own fault and a mess of my own making. I was changing, I was becoming someone I didn't want to be. Do you remember telling me that sometimes you thought you saw a glimmer of... of darkness in me?"

"... I guess."

"You  _know_  what I'm talking about. I can tell from your expression you think I'm spinning you some sort of excuse, but I'm not. What happened with the crop, Emma... You know as well as I do that there was something more at play there then just a game going wrong. I saw it in your eyes, and you must have seen it in mine. You know I would never,  _ever_  have hurt you back then. Whatever you think of me now, you know that's true... But I still  _did_."

"I told you, it didn't  _matter_. Look, I get that you're embarrassed about what went down, but sometimes you just lose control for a moment, and that's all that  _happened_. I get you feel  _bad_ , but it wasn't a big deal! And if you're trying to say that what you did that night is why you got rid of me, then-"

"- _No_! It  _is_  a big deal, and that's not what I'm  _saying_! It was a  _huge_  deal to me! I would  _never_  have done it, but the Queen, she-"

"-You  _did_  do it, though! You  _did_! I'm sorry that you seem so surprised by your own deviancy, but-"

_"-I would never hurt you!"_

Regina yells, furious and aching, and Emma matches her aggressively as she leans forwards and seethes dangerously

"No? Well what did you  _think_  would happen?! After you left me in the motel?!"

"I left you with money! I left you with a note! I left you with-"

"-A  _note_?! You left me with a huge fucking hole in my  _memory_! Do you know what that's  _like_?! For years! for years I thought I had  _lost_  it! I thought I was  _mad_! I questioned  _everything_! And of course I couldn't  _tell_  anyone! Couldn't tell anyone that I woke up one day and was suddenly lying naked in the future with no recollection of how I might have got there! I  _tried_ , twice, I  _tried_  because I couldn't deal with it, and they called me  _crazy_! I-"

But she trails off as the brunette doubles over and places her hands over her head; the position so unlike the darker woman that it causes her to pause. What comes next only serves to alarm her further, as the Mayor's whole body heaves with silent sobs. Balling her fists uncomfortably, Emma waits for Regina to regain some composure, but she finds that any further venom has dissipated into unease, and she takes a hesitant sip of her bourbon.

"I didn't have t-time... I didn't think... I... I just tried to h-help... I-"

Regina tries, but that's all that she manages before being unable to talk again. Emma watches her, sat rigidly straight and clasping her glass nervously as she waits for this whole situation to become less hoffically uncomfortable. Eventually bowing her head and relaxing a little, she breathes in the familiar smell of the candles on the mantel, the flowers- always freesias- on the windowsill and the general scent of the Mayor herself. She lets some of the wave of memory that has been hounding her to wash wash over her; good thoughts, comforting recollections, memories of a woman that really  _had_  strived to help her where she could.

"Ugh, Regina..."

She groans, massaging her temples before leaning over to top up both of their glasses. Drinking from her own as she waits, she looks cordially away when the darker woman finally raises her head and wipes aggressively at her cheeks, before asking quietly

"How did you do it?"


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Gah! I guess it was inevitable given the storyline of this fic that this conversation had to be had, but it's a tricky and stressful one to write! Didn't think that through so well! :p Hopefully it reads ok, and has helped set up the next part of the story a little. Reviews would be lovely, but please be gentle with me for this one!

" _How did you do it?_ "

The question lingers between them as the blonde drinks and the Mayor simply stares out the window; her lashes wet and her breath still hitching a little. Finally looking back at the younger woman sat opposite her, she shakes her head as she whispers

"Magic."

Silence follows this admission as Emma waits for a punchline that doesn't come. Narrowing her eyes, she regards the brunette uncertainly and finally asks

"What?"

"I know how that must sound..."

Regina sighs, nodding in acceptance when the girl snaps

"It sounds like a load of shit-"

"-I imagine it  _does_. That doesn't change the fact that it's the truth."

"Are you  _honestly_  expecting me to-"

"-I'm expecting you to tell me you don't believe me. I'm expecting you to be angry that I don't have a better answer."

"You-"

"-But tell me this, Emma... What  _other_  answer could there possibly be?"

The blonde opens her mouth to bite back but is unable to find the words she needs to do so. She hasn't got a clue where to even  _start_ , and her flustered silence allows the darker woman to continue solemnly

"You're not mad. You may  _wish_  you were as the alternative seems impossible, but you're not mad. You remember everything; you remember when we met and when I left you and everything in between, I know you do. Those weren't just lost thoughts that had grown hazy with time, they were gone one moment and there the next. We went to bed together that night in the motel and I plied you with liquor to make what I knew I had to do easier. In the early hours, I got up and got you some water, only I put something  _else_  in there too.

I put magic in there.

I know how that must sound, but how  _else_  do you explain what happened? How else do you explain the fact that I look the same as I did when we first met?"

"You take care of yourself..."

Emma tries croakily, struggling to get her mouth to work as it feels suddenly very dry. She knocks back the liquor in her glass with a trembling hand.

"I do, but come  _on_ , dear... You  _know_  that's not enough to have stilled the clock."

_The clock. It worked and then didn't. Worked then didn't. There was something up in the cogs to stop them from turning. She was afraid of the clock tower and of the time it kept, but I could never ask her why and hope for an answer._

"You stopped the cogs from turning..."

Emma breathes, and the brunette frowns in confusion before her face suddenly opens up in surprise.

"How did you...-"

"When I broke into the library and climbed the stairs. I saw something up there jammed in the gears, but I didn't want to ask you about it in case... In case it ruined the moment."

The blonde explains numbly, and Regina bows her head as she contemplates her glass; shocked to find out that the girl had been so close to uncovering any part of the truth.

"Yes. I had Marco go up and stop the hands from moving. I knew it wasn't really doing any good- so long as you were around, time would go on as it should do, I couldn't do anything about it- but I was afraid, and I didn't know what else to do."

"So long as I was around?"

The younger woman frowns, not looking up at the Mayor as she's afraid of what her face might do in reaction to this madness. She has worked hard over the years to perfect her poker face, but right now she feels completely out of her element, and she's scared to let it show.

"Yes. You weren't  _supposed_  to come here until you were twenty-eight. I knew this when I met you, but I  _couldn't_  leave you after seeing what your life was like. I came looking for you to hurt you- possibly even kill you- but I couldn't do it after meeting you. I was so ready to hate you. So ready to enjoy  _ruining_  you... When I brought you back with me, I saw that the hands of the clock tower had moved, and I knew... I knew the rules had been broken. The rules of the curse."

Green eyes flicker up warily to meet brown; heavy with uncertainty and distrust. Regina shakes her head, splaying her palms helplessly.

"I know how I sound. To me, magic is one of the most natural things in the world, and yet I  _know_  I must sound mad to you."

"Crazy."

Emma hisses, and full lips form a thin line as Mayor recoils from the word unhappily.

"I know. But however I  _sound_ , it doesn't change the fact that the hands of the clocktower hadn't moved for eighteen years before you came with me into town... A little over actually, your birthday had recently passed."

"... What?"

"They stopped moving when I brought everyone here to suffer. When the curse was cast, and you escaped."

"I-"

"-They found you out in the woods. You told me you'd been found in Kittery, but that's not right; that's just where you were brought. You came through to Storybrooke, only a little while before the rest of us. Your father put you in the wardrobe to save you from my men, and when I came to find you- to slaughter you- you were gone. The imp was right; our fates were to be intertwined. You would be the Saviour after all, and you-  _only_  you- would have the power to break the curse... I know it's not quite as entertaining as one of your Harry Potter books, but  _real_  life seldom is. You asked me how I managed to wipe your memory, and I told you I did so with magic. You asked me why, and my answer is just as simple. I did it because I loved you. I...  _I_  am the reason for so much of your misery. I cast the curse. I made you the Saviour; not on purpose but by default. I regret what I've done terribly, and the only way to  _rectify_  my mistakes was to wait until you were old enough- until you were the age you were destined to be- and try and aid you in what you were made to do. I promised you once that I would help you find your family, and I'm going to  _try_ , but you... You have to  _believe_. I can't do anything to help you until you do."

"I... I don't even..."

"It's all in here. It's in Henry's book."

Regina sighs, wiping a stray tears from her cheek before leaning forwards and sliding the book across the coffee table. She sits back with her hands clasped over her knees as she waits for the blonde to submit and open the pages. Finally, throwing a cold glance up at her host, Emma does so; pulling back the cover with a stiff move of her wrist, before flicking through several of the pages. She stops at an illustration of a woman sat mounted on a horse. The woman's hair is long and thick, but she recognises her as the Mayor instantly. Glancing down at the text beneath the picture, her eyes fixate on the word  _Queen_ , and she thins her lips as she looks back up at the brunette intently.

"What the fuck  _is_  this? Did you  _commission_  this?! What, you created some kind of alter ego and let the  _kid_  read this madness?!"

"I had nothing to do with it," Regina snaps angrily, "it showed up for Henry and I found him reading it. At the time I wanted to  _burn_  the damned thing."

"It just 'showed up'? What? You mean as if by  _magic_?"

Emma growls icily, and there's a cruel note of chiding disbelief in her tone the brunette doesn't recognise from the past. It's the tone of a woman with a lot of anger and very little trust.

"Yes. That's exactly what I mean."

She agrees quietly, and she holds the blonde's stony glower with a sorrowful gaze of her own.

"Emma, I understand that every  _fibre_  in your body must want to believe that this is some cruel trick, or simple insanity on my part. It's not. The pages of that book tell a story that I am highly ashamed of, and if I  _could_  let myself think that they might be false, I would do so gladly... And if you  _truly_  believed- if you were  _unwaveringly_  certain- that everything I've told you is a lie, you would be out that door by now. I  _know_  you... But you're still here. There are things I've said that you  _can't_  explain away, and as much as you might not  _want_  to believe in magic, there is a part of you that  _does_."

"You don't know me. You don't know what I'm thinking."

"...Well, I imagine it might be rather unflattering towards myself just now."

The Mayor sighs sadly, watching as the blonde pours herself another drink.

"I know you, Emma."

She scolds softly, meeting ice with gentle warmth as the younger woman looks up at her with a brief glower.

"I know you. Maybe not everything, but I know what matters; I know your heart. However much you may currently despise the fact, you let me in once, and I know you  _very_  well. Just as you know me, and you know  _none_  of this is anything I'd do to play games with you. Why would I do such a thing?"

"Because the alternative is that you have  _magic_!"

Emma snaps furiously, but there is a hint of salt to her anger, and a pleading look in her eyes; begging the darker woman to see just how insane this all sounds.

"...I understand it's a lot to ask you to believe."

"I don't! I  _don't_  believe it!"

"... Emma..."

"Fine! If you're magic,  _do_  something!  _Show_  me something! Do something fucking  _magic_!"

The blonde cries, and the Mayor shakes her head as she apologises gently

"I can't. Not now. There's no magic in this world, dear. I was able to make a potion out of some keepsakes in my vault, but I can't perform magic until the curse breaks."

"Convenient."

The younger woman snarls miserably, and the brunette squeezes her eyes shut as her helpless position in all this has her wanting to lash out and hurt someone or something; not well equipped to deal with the feeling of powerlessness she currently faces.

"What would I have to  _gain_  from lying to you, Emma?"

She asks without opening her eyes, and there is a note of impatience she doesnt quite succeed in hiding. Finally gathering herself and looking back at the blonde, she sighs as she is met with distraught anger and confusion, but no answer.

"Magic exists, dear, and it's no game. It's dangerous. Take the book. Read it... And every time you find yourself wanting to hurl it out the window with declarations of madness, think upon how many questions our friendship has brought forth that you are unable to answer in  _any_  other way but to accept that what I tell you is true."

"I can't..."

"Not now. Now you're angry, and I don't blame you. I would like to sit and talk more- even with you looking at me the way you are, it is a thousand times better than not having you around at all- but I don't think it would be wise to try and explain everything to you when you refuse to listen. I'm not scolding you; I understand why you're trying to shut me and what I'm saying out... You said I don't know you, but I do. I know you need space. I know you don't want me to try and comfort you right now... I also know that you might not want me to say what I plan to say next, but I will do so anyway:

It might sound just as unbelievable as the rest of what I've told you if I say it never even crossed my mind that the lack of memory of your time here would mean you were left confused. It  _didn't_ , though. That was careless of me, and I am  _truly_  sorry. I was hurting terribly knowing that I had to let you go. Until you believe in magic- until you are able to at least  _entertain_  the idea- any explanation of the darkness of power will lack the weight it needs when I tell you why I had to push you away. Just know that I was hurting. I was in a lot of pain and it made me blind. It has never once occurred to me that you would have been left with a hole in your mind, because I was so busy reeling from the one that you left in my heart. I was so naively  _thankful_  for the  _one_  silver lining in the situation; that you had been  _spared_  that awful ache... I  _know_  you've said you don't miss me, but  _I_  missed  _you_  terribly, and..."

She trails off, and the younger woman waits to see if there's more, but the brunette just shakes her head and looks away; motioning that she is unable to speak any longer.

Finishing her drink with a sigh, Emma reaches for the book and tucks it gingerly under her arm.

 _Henry's book. You're holding your kid's- your_ son's _\- book. A book full of magic and madness. Your son's book._

"I'm going to go."

"Yes. Alright."

Regina nods, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. Emma watches her uncomfortably, chewing her lip.

"You know... I've never  _missed_  you, because you took the choice of whether I'd do so or not away from me. Not because I  _wouldn't_  have..."

"... Thank you for saying so."

The brunette sniffs with a watery smile that doesn't speak of much humour. The younger woman nods in return as she bounces her knee uncomfortably.

"I need to go and try and get my head around things; take time to think, drink about a  _gallon_  of strong coffee... Wait... Will  _Ruby_ -"

"-She doesn't remember, dear. No one does."

"But... How?"

"You  _know_  how. Magic."

Regina explains glumly, and the younger woman swallows and pushes herself up from the sofa.

"There's no such thing as magic."

Emma whispers finally, turning as she heads for the door to shake her head at the brunette.

"Not here, no. But when you're ready... You're going to change that."


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the wait, it was my birthday the other day and things have been a bit chaotic since. I wrote this chapter while already making notes for the next one. I felt this one really needed to be added in, but I will admit I'm excited for the one soon to come as I'm hoping it will end on a slightly (SLIGHTLY!) more positive note. I will say nothing else, but I am just aware that this angst is threatening to lack a silver lining, so wanted to assure that I have one in sight :) Reviews would be lovely :)

Wiping down the steel front of the fridge, Ruby steps back and throws a cursory glance over her shoulder to check on the Diner. It's the quiet lull between lunch and dinner, and almost every booth is empty. Frowning as she spies an unannounced customer, she throws her rag into a bucket in the corner and steps out behind the till.

"Hey, are you okay?"

She asks uncertainly, studying the blonde who sits with her head in her hands at the bar. Emma sighs audibly before looking up, and her expression is worryingly glum.

"Hey, Ruby. Could I get a coffee? Black, in your largest mug?"

"Sure."

The waitress nods, starting up the machine as she leans against the counter regarding the strange woman so recently brought into town.

"Rough day, huh?"

She prompts, and Emma shrugs uncomfortably as she eyes the young brunette, recalling the way Ruby had laughed with her and cried with her all those years ago. Her eyes flicker to a bright streak of scarlet colouring dark hair, and again she thinks to herself on how the waitress _still_ hasn't committed to actually _dying_ it despite having had ten years to think about it.

 _Ten years to think about it... Really? She's not_ changed _, Granny hasn't changed, Leroy back there by the window hasn't_ changed _... Only I have. Well, I have... And so has Henry._

 _Fuck_...

She hangs her head, and Ruby carefully slides her a brimming cup of tar black coffee, along with a couple of sachets of sugar.

"Look, I don't want to pry, but-"

"-I'm fine."

The blonde interrupts automatically, and she catches a small flicker of disbelief in the younger woman's eyes. That unconvinced glitter is mixed anguish, and Emma swallows as she is suddenly struck with the bizarre urge to hold out her arms to the waitress and ask her for a hug. Back when she'd been in town before, Ruby had provided her comfort in the few instances that Regina couldn't, and she feels dismayed that the brunette's concern is shadowed by the polite barrier of seeing her as little more than an acquaintance.

"If you say so. If you need to talk though, you know where to find me."

"I do. Thanks, but I think I need to figure a few things out for _myself_ before I can think about discussing them with other people.

_Not to mention, you'd think I'm just as insane as the Mayor clearly is._

"I get it, just don't sit on it if you feel like maybe you need someone to listen. I imagine it's hard if you feel bad and you're away from home."

"I'm fine."

Emma repeats again with a mechanical smile, gritting her teeth behind the facade as a small voice in the back of her head suggests that this is the first time she's _been_ home in years, causing her stomach to clench uncomfortably.

"Ok, I'll pretend to believe you."

Ruby nods, and the blonde's mask drops just a little as her grin becomes more genuine.

"I appreciate it. Do you think you could make me another of these to take upstairs?"

"You'll never sleep!"

The brunette warns, raising a brow when her guest mutters that she doubts this is going to be on the cards either way. Shaking her head, she disappears into the back before reemerging with a bottle of wine.

"Here, you look like you could use this rather than coffee."

"That's-"

"-On the house."

Ruby interrupts as the blonde pulls a small clip of notes from her pocket. Meeting the narrowing of green eyes with a shake of her head, she places the bottle in front of Emma pointedly and shrugs.

"It's fine, I'm in charge with keeping the records of all these things anyway. You can pay me back with a bottle when you decide to get things off your chest."

She smiles amiably, and the blonde hesitates as she searches for a reason to refuse such kindness before simply accepting it for what it is.

_I was wrong when I told Regina I didn't miss her. She took away the opportunity for me to do so when she took my memories, but these last couple of hours have given me enough to think about to be able to feel some sense of loss after all. I do miss her, and I miss you too, Ruby. I really do._

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Really, you're doing me a favour."

"You don't sell a lot of this one?"

Emma asks, scanning the label on the back of the bottle as she pulls on her jacket and gets ready to head upstairs.

"Sure we do. It's not that, it's just always nice to have someone deep in your debt."

The waitress grins, smirking saucily, and the blonde rolls her eyes as she smiles back and warns

"You know, you should really be careful what you wish for."

* * *

Up in her room, Emma falls onto the bed and squeazes her eyes shut. She tries to remember what her old neighbour had told her about therapeutic breathing while attempting to teach her yoga, but can't recall much of anything. Annie had been an instructor down in the little health plaza a block from their respective apartments, and she'd looked pretty good for a woman of around forty-five. She'd looked _especially_ good in yoga pants and a sports bra, and Emma imagines this might have something to do with not remembering whether she's supposed to be breathing in through her nose or out.

"Not your thing, anyway."

She sighs, and pushes herself up to go and get a glass- the glass she'd offered Regina when they'd shared some whisky and then each other- and fills it to the brim with wine. Balling her hands into fists, she hesitates uncertainly in the middle of the room, before walking over to the small heap of belongings she'd dropped at the door. She pulls out the heavy book- the fairytale book- and takes it over to the bed; pulling the covers up over her jeans as there is a definite chill in the air, and sipping at her drink.

She reads in spurts; only able to get through a few pages at a time before having to sit back and collect herself. The stories in the book are all rather sad, but quite interesting. It's the sort of thing she'd probably have enjoyed when she was a little younger; a semi retelling of well known tales ages old. When mixed with Regina's insinuations though, it's like consuming a nightmare. Worse still are the pictures. They seem boldly obvious, and they are hateful for it, and she finds herself reading with her hand spread out over each depiction of the Queen- _not Regina, how_ could _it be Regina, this is_ insane _-_ to save herself from having to look at them. She does the same with those of the book's seemingly main protagonist; recognising those strange illustrations for their real life counterpart and not knowing what to do with the resemblence.

 _Mary Margaret is Snow White. No_ wonder _Regina never seemed to like her._

The thought flashes through her mind before she can banish it for the insanity it advocates.

 _This isn't_ real _, Swan! Don't go losing your head now!_ '

She admonishes herself, pouring more wine into her dwindling glass. Wine given to her by a woman who hasn't aged a day since they had last shared the beverage ten years ago.

_It's fucking crazy!_

It is, and she ends up closing the book about half way through; unable to take in any more for now. It's been a long day. A hard day. A day where everything she has believed for most of her adult life has been brought into question, topped off with having to face the child she'd given up all those years ago.

"Henry."

She says his name quietly, and she remembers- vividly- standing in the Mayor's drawing room in the black scrap of Ruby's borrowed dress and whispering the baby's name with her new knowledge, wondering what she might have called him instead.

If she'd kept him.

If she'd not given him up.

_You didn't do a bad thing, Emma, you really didn't._

She has a note- painstakingly preserved in a folder along with her other important documents- saying just that, but it's not the words typed on a single sheet of paper she recalls now, but the brunette's voice as she'd assured her of the fact gently countless times.

"I loved you. I loved you _so_ much."

She laments, covering her mouth with one hand and using the glass in the other to shield the Queen's face; snarling and cruel.

_That's not her. You know it can't be._

"I don't know _what_ I know anymore."

* * *

Regina sighs as she peeks around Henry's door to check that he's gone to sleep. The curtains are open just an inch, and the moonlight that filters through the crack casts the room with a dull glow.

"Are you okay, mom?"

The boy asks, opening one eye at the sound of the door.

"Of course."

She assures automatically.

"You're worried, aren't you?"

He asks, ignoring her declaration to the contrary.

"I just want things to work out. I want so much good for her, but she has to do the impossible so that I can even stand a _chance_. I knew it was going to be hard, but when I talked to her today, I realised... I realised just _how_ diffi-... Henry, I know it will all be fine eventually. In time. I'm just tired."

She finishes glumly, catching herself before she can tell the boy just how worried she truly is.

"It will be okay, mom."

Henry assures softly, and she closes her eyes as she pulls the door closed with the whisper of

"I know. I love you."

Before retiring to her own room.

There, she readies herself for bed despite it still being fairly early; not knowing what _else_ to do with herself. She turns off the lights and slips beneath the sheets- sheets she had once tasted the blonde on- and she closes her eyes as memories of that first intimate encounter play through her mind. They are broken and interrupted with images of their last night in the motel, and her loss of control with the crop. That terrible encounter shared on these _same_ sheets before the younger woman's blood had smeared her nightstand. Through it all, these trysts of the past are peppered with snippets of what had happened down in her drawing room only a few days ago, and what had taken place in the blonde's room. Memories of a time long gone merged with harsh breaths and the more confident, better matched fucking of the present.

She tries to push these thoughts away, deeming them inappropriate given how her conversation with Emma had gone this afternoon, but even as she does so, she swallows as she recalls ordering the younger woman to look at her as she'd brought her to rough ecstasy against the hard relief of the dresser.

 _So much has changed, but that cheeky defiance is exactly the same. And we could be good, so_ good _together this time if she would only open up her mind a little._

It's a big ask though, and she knows this. She knows it as sleep comes for her and takes her back to that other world where things had all started to unravel.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Now we're getting somewhere! :) Hope you enjoy, and please review!

Walking slowly down Main Street, Emma looks down at her feet as soft snow crunches beneath her boots. Henry had been right when he'd prophesied that it might snow overnight, and she muses on how odd it is to think on such a thing. How strange it is to consider a conversation with her son. Her mind is still all over the place following everything that has come to light, but one thing that has been made better by her insane discovery is how she feels about the kid. It is bittersweet in a way, as she hates the fact that all of the comforting words offered to her by Regina had been forgotten as part of the brunette's spell.

 _No, we're_ not _calling it that! There was no 'spell'!_

Still, she remembers them now, and that quiet ache that has existed for the last decade in her chest has finally let up. For the first time in over ten years, she'd woken up this morning and not felt a small pang of guilt; dulled and dusty with time, but never quite leaving her in peace.

"The kid was right, it  _did_  snow."

She tests out beneath her breath, before trying it again using the boy's name.

"Henry was right."

She whispers, and a small smile finds her lips as she leaves a set of footprints through the powder dusting the sidewalk. She walks with the book- Henry's book- tucked under her arm and her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans. She'd read a little more while eating breakfast; swiftly hiding the page with her hand as Ruby had come to refill her coffee. Once the waitress had moved on to the next table, she'd slowly unveiled the illustration taking up half the page, and had actually grinned. She's still not sure how to process the crazy speil Regina had given her yesterday, but there is something undeniably amusing about watching Ruby go about her job while imagining her as Little Red Riding Hood. In the book, the character is simply known as Red, and she'd been midway through reading about how Red's grandmother was explaining to Snow- currently going by 'Mary'- the reasoning behind her scarlet cloak, when Granny herself had come shuffling over to ask her how she was finding everything so far. Blue eyes had twinkled over the rim of the older woman's glasses, and the blonde had smiled back and assured everything was just fine; recalling the way Granny had once watched over her in a wonderfully- yet rather foreign- maternal manner. The old woman had nodded with a familiar stern smile, and the blonde had wished she could ask her host to just call her Emma, and not treat her so formally; after all, she'd once walked in on her standing in the dark half naked! She had simply smiled, though. Smiled and looked back down at the book.

That smile had waned slightly upon discovering how Red had ended up eating her boyfriend. Glancing up as the door to the Diner had opened and Billy had come in with a wave at the young brunette stood manning the counter, she'd sighed and closed up the book and pushed herself from the table.

Now, she is not altogether sure where she's headed. She'd considered taking a walk through the woods and over to the farmhouse, but if that were the case, she should have taken a left a couple of blocks down. Instead, she keeps going, and when she looks up- startled- to spy the shrieking relief of a gull against the steel grey sky, she finally understands where it is that she's been going all along.

It doesn't surprise her at all as she steps out onto the wooden boards of the dock that she isn't alone.

Regina stands on the boardwalk below with her gaze cast out to the waves. She wears a long black coat buttoned up against the wind, and her hair flutters prettily away from her face. Pausing for a moment, Emma nibbles her lip before walking to the top of the steps that lead down to shore level; suffering a grand spectrum of emotion and recollection that sits heavily in her chest.

"Hey."

She greets quietly, and the brunette turns around to watch her descend the ladder to land with her boots in the gravel. The dock has sheltered the boards below from the snow, but the shore beyond is dusted a virginal white. Several soft, fat flakes continue to fall lazily, and the Mayor watches as a couple settle in the younger woman's curls.

"Emma..."

She replies in surprise, swallowing as the blonde stalks over to stand beside her.

"I thought maybe you'd be out here."

The younger woman muses softly, realising that this had been her reasoning for heading out this way without even giving the notion any conscious thought.

"Yes?"

Regina replies warily, not sure just where she stands with the girl. Her dreams had been plagued with memories of the past; ripping her father's heart out and threatening Snow, all while the blonde had stood silently watching her with a terrible look of understanding and hate. The younger woman had been swaddled in the cruel constraints of a straight jacket, and when she'd finally escaped from her nightmare, the Mayor had been trembling as the despising look on the girl's face had seemed sure to follow her into this world.

"Yeah."

Emma nods, and there is no hate in her eyes, but simply a weariness as she offers a weak smile.

"I wouldn't have thought you'd come looking for me."

The brunette states quietly, and the blonde sighs as she studies the dangerous crash of the waves hit the shore.

"I dunno. I guess part of me kind of wishes she was somewhere else where none of this was happening."

She admits, but she shakes her head; the gunmetal sky devoid of clouds and turning her eyes a curious silver.

"But the rest of me is glad that she's here... Here with you ... I remember, Regina. I remember how I felt and why I felt that way. There was a time when all I ever  _wanted_  was to be around you. Turns out, that's still kind of the case."

She shrugs, and the brunette purses her lips as her eyes prickle with salt. Joining Emma in her careful refusal to look away from the waves, she asks gently

"Did you take a look at the book?"

"Some of it, yeah. Not all. I usually read pretty quick, but..."

"... I'm just appreciative that you decided to read it at  _all_."

Regina assures, and the blonde sighs as she laments once more

"It's crazy, though. You know that, right?"

"Oh, I know. I know that, dear. And I know that you're doing everything in your power not to believe, and I suppose I am just grateful that hasn't crossed over into hating me."

Frowning, Emma finally turns away from the sea to regard the darker woman with a troubled look, shivering a little as she pulls red leather around her more tightly.

"That's not how I feel. I don't hate you, and I... I don't  _know_  how I feel about believing this shit. My mind is telling me that I  _can't_ ; it's impossible. But a part of me kind of  _wants_  to believe it."

"It  _does_?"

Regina furrows her brow in confusion, staring back at the blonde and thinking how she would look if she'd been raised on the throne as she might have been.

"Well,  _yeah_! Regina, if I believe all this; if I believe you are who you say you are, and that this other world exists and that I was  _part_  of it and had a  _family_... To believe that would mean that the one person I've truly loved didn't  _abandon_  me. That they didn't let me down, they were trying to  _help_  me. To believe you would mean that I had parents that  _did_  want me- that  _did_  love me- and that didn't throw me out without a care. It would mean that I'm not the person I believed I was. It would mean that I  _do_  matter, and people  _do_  need me around."

"Emma, of course-"

"-But, it  _also_  means... It  _also_  means that the one person I've truly loved ruined my life. If you really are the Evil Queen... I don't know yet how the story ends. What I  _do_  know is that you told me that you brought everyone here. You told me my father tried to save me before you cast this... This  _curse_  you say brought everyone here. If I believe that that's true, it means that I  _could_  have had a family, I  _could_  have grown up so much different than I did. It means everything that happened when I was a kid- every shit consequence to being discarded- that's all on you. Just because a  _child_  couldn't keep a  _secret!"_

"No, Emma."

The brunette shakes her head, wringing her hands uncomfortably as she watches tears tremble on the younger woman's lashes. Reaching out and taking the blonde's hand, she squeezes tightly as she appeals desperately

"It  _wasn't_  that. It wasn't that  _simple_. It was  _more_  than a simple  _secret_. It was a  _betrayal_ , or at least that's the only way I could see it at the time. I was  _scared_ , Emma. I was terrified. I was to be married off to a man I hated simply because he was the other half of an awful situation. Snow was a child, but  _I_  was young also, and her father was a great many years my elder and a  _stranger_  to me. I was brought up to want the throne, but as much as our relationship was a troubled one, I was frightened of being pulled away from my parents and placed in a situation so alien to me where every face in the crowd was a stranger. I had  _one_  good thing-  _one_  happy thought- to cling to, and Snow  _took_  it from me. She had me watch my mother rip Daniel's heart from his chest and crush it. Crush  _me_. Looking back- since knowing  _you_ \- I can see the situation in a less blinded fashion, but at the time... I reacted the only way that I knew how. The only way that I was  _capable_  of, being raised the way that I was raised, and having been taught the things that I had been taught.

I'm not saying that makes what I did right. I'm not even asking for your forgiveness. I know what I did, and I know I don't have a right to ask for anything so kind. I'm just asking for you to try and see how much I regret what I've done. I have spent the last ten years trying to figure out how to help you. If I succeed in doing so, it will ruin  _everything_  I have built here. It will destroy me. But it is what I want more than anything, it's what I want for  _you_. The truth that I am asking you to believe is a horrendous one... But that doesn't make it false. It doesn't make it insanity. I'm asking you to believe the very  _worst_  of me, while wishing you to understand that you have brought out the very best in me. The only excuse I can offer you is ignorance, and I have killed men for less. I want to rectify as many wrongs as I am able to, and I don't expect anything from you... But I would be lying if I said there wasn't just a glimmer of hope I am unable to snuff out. I don't really  _deserve_  a chance from you... There was a time where I told myself otherwise. I reasoned I had helped you when no one else had, and that I made you into something you might not have achieved on your own... I  _did_  help you despite knowing that it would put my work in jeapordy, and I  _do_  believe that being shown the care I offered you allowed you to shine in a way you wouldn't- couldn't- without that support. But I was simply healing wounds inflicted by my own hand, and I know now that you have no reason to offer me a chance.

...Still, I would like to  _ask_  for one. I will help you whether you give it to me or not, but I hope that you do. The only chance I want is for us to move on. There has been so much misery in your life and in mine, but we were the  _solution_  for each other's pain. We still  _are_. I just want to move on and be as happy as we each can be. I want to be happy with you."

"Regina, you're  _asking_  me to believe you're the Evil  _Queen_..."

Emma replies, using her free hand to wipe at her cheeks as she makes a noise somewhere between a hysterical giggle and a sob.

"I am. And I'm sorry."

The brunette agrees solemnly, swallowing back her own tears and regarding the younger woman with a look of such naked desperation that it breaks through just a little. The blonde shakes her head and pulls her hand away; standing with her fists balled up against her hips as she sighs warily.

"Say for a second I  _could_  humour you... That's why you did it, isn't it? That's why you sent me away?"

"Yes. I couldn't control what was happening to me and I was afraid. You being here and your light was calling out the darkness in me to retaliate in the way that was prophesied. The curse was feeding on me. I thought I would be able to battle it, but after what happened with the crop... I treated you in a way I  _never_  wanted to treat you or know that anyone else would treat you. I felt so  _terrible_  afterwards, but I also felt... I also felt a small amount of vindication. I didn't want to admit it, even to myself, but there was a tiny part of me that relished what happened, and not for the same reasons you might have. There was a flicker of glee and amusement that you'd  _suffered_  and I remembered that feeling so well and knew that I had to do something. If that feeling wouldn't go away even for  _you_ , then I knew I was in trouble. Having you around was testing me, and I accepted the challenge until I realised that if I failed, it wasn't going to be  _myself_  that suffered the brunt of that defeat, but you. It sounds so dramatic when trying to put the fear I felt into words, but you haven't  _seen_  what I've seen. You haven't heard the noises people used to make because what I was willing to  _do_  to them."

The Mayor bows her head as she whispers this last, and a single snowflake settles on the soft curve of her cheek; fresh and pure amongst salted tracks. Emma reaches up to brush it away gently, her heart hammering a crazed rhythm as the overwhelming magnitude of her desire comes crashing back in the face of the brunette letting her in as she had once done.

"What about now, though?"

"How do you mean, dear?"

"Now. If being around me brings out the darkness in you, what makes it so that you can do now what you couldn't then?"

"... Nothing. Nothing stands in the way of me becoming once more consumed, apart from the fact that this time you'll be able to  _stop_  me. This time, you know the truth, and you're  _stronger_ ; I can feel it. I will help you in any way that I can, but the power to snuff out that black threat lies with  _you_. I believe you can win this, though, I would never have risked bringing you back if I didn't."

"If it was prophesied, wouldn't I have wound up here either way?"

"... Spoken like one with a true understanding of magic..."

"No. I just like to read."

"I know."

"... I'm not sure I can do this, Regina. I'm not sure I have it  _in_  me to truly believe..."

"You're willing to  _try_ , though. That's a start."

"I guess it is. There's too much that I can't explain. There's too much that shouldn't be  _possible_. There's too much pain in your voice when you speak of things that should be pure madness to think that you're lying. I... I'll  _try_  to let you explain about the curse. I'll  _try_  to take in what it says in this goddamned book and give it room to grow. I'll try to get my head around it all before the darkness can get too strong."

"I won't hurt you..."

Regina chokes quietly, and Emma nips at her bottom lip before threading her fingers into dark hair and kissing the brunette slowly.

"You can't promise that."

The blonde scolds huskily against painted lips, before moving them around and pushing the darker woman up against the stone wall of the docks above.

"You're just going to have to do you're fucking best to convince me  _quickly-_ "

She breathes into the hollow of the Mayor's throat, and whether it's the adrenaline thrumming through her blood or the familiar kick she once relished in biting at the darker woman's bait, she doesn't know, but she decides for now to throw caution to the wind as she lets the book fall forgotten to the floor and her hands slip into dark wool.

"-Your Majesty."

A gasp at this which she swallows hungrily, and Regina works open rough denim with trembling hands as the pages of the book flutter madly in the wind.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I struggled with this one as it ended up being written over serval nights due to other commitments. Usually, I write all in one sitting, so this kind of broke the flow a little! Hopefully it reads fine though, and I really hope you all enjoy :) Comments would be lovely!

Faces flutter; twisted with pain and with rage. Faces of Snow, of her Prince, of their loyal friends.

The face of the Queen.

The face of the Queen as darkness had finally taken over completely and every threat and promise had come to fruition. The wind whips this final act of retribution back and forth as delicate snowflakes fall ever more quickly, and angry waves crash and break over the shore. Black rage flickers on the page, but for now neither woman spares the book a glance, as each tastes the other with a final dizzying combination of recollection and truth.

"God, I missed you."

Regina confides against parted lips that stretch into a smile.

A smile that swiftly becomes teeth closing gently over her bottom lip, and she stills for a moment before slipping her hand slyly into unfastened denim.

"You too."

Emma murmurs, pushing suggestively against exploratory fingers and sliding her own hand beneath the delicate lace of the darker woman's bra. She strokes at once forgotten flesh slowly- affectionately- before moving back over the luxurious fabric and feeling out intricate whorls. She had always been in awe of the brunette's lingerie when they had been together before; Regina's taste expensive and divine. She recalls the time when the Mayor had sent her out to buy her own little scant surprise, and she smirks now into dark hair as she applies teasing pressure and digs in her nails ever so slightly.

"You've become rather bold."

Regina scolds, although the blonde doesn't miss the hitch to her breath, nor the way slim fingers jerk in response inside the confines of her jeans.

"A lot's changed..."

Emma growls, playing with fire as she squeezes just a little harder before yelping as the darker woman whirls them around aggressively and pushes her up against the rocks.

"Miss Swan..."

Regina warns, but she supposes what she _really_ wants to snap at the girl is 'don't say that'. She knows that she can't demand such a thing though, and so she simply resolves to even the score with a rough dip of her fingers, but even with the wonderfully familiar sound the blonde makes in her ear, she can't push away the small wave of bitterness caused by Emma's words.

"What?"

The blonde asks as she senses a shift in the tension between them, and she pushes the Mayor back gently so that she can study her expression. Dark eyes bore into her shadowed with trouble, and she slips her hand back beneath warm silk and cocks her hips firmly into the brunette's palm as she plays her fingers through thick hair slowly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's nothing."

Regina replies, looking down to where her hand disappears into rough denim and swallowing.

"No, go on, tell me what's up..."

Emma urges, and the darker woman sighs as she studies sharp features that remain wonderfully familiar to her, yet changed by time and events she knows nothing of.

"I can't. Not after everything you've just said and everything I've done. I have no _right_ to feel how I feel."

The brunette confides solemnly, and the younger woman cocks a brow as she teases coquestishly

"No right to feel turned on?"

But she is offered little more than an eye roll in response. Hesitating pensively, she leans in and kisses the Mayor softly, before she pulls back again and persists

"Regina, if I didn't want to know what was wrong, I wouldn't have _asked_. If you haven't noticed, there's things we _could_ be doing _rather_ than talking, so you should take my curiosity as entirely sincere! I've missed you for so _many_ reasons, but _one_ of those is that I missed truly caring about someone else..."

"... Really?"

"Yeah... So tell me what's up, or pick up the pace a little!"

Emma grins, flashing a glance down at the brunette's hand trapped between them, and the darker woman scoffs dramatically, before shaking her head.

"When you tell me that a lot has changed, it _bothers_ me... I know it shouldn't, and that I have no right to feel that way, it's just that in this context- in the context _you_ used it in- I can't help but feel... I feel... I feel something I _shouldn't_."

"What do you feel?"

The blonde asks quietly, fairly certain she can guess, but waiting to see if Regina will come out and tell her.

"Jealous."

The brunette sighs eventually, and she watches predictable irritation flicker behind cool glass, and carries on with clear agitation of her own

"I _told_ you that it wasn't something I should feel!... It's been ten years since I last saw you and that is a situation for which I have _only_ myself to blame. I've thought about you constantly since then, but one thing that I _never_ allowed myself to dwell on until you came back was what you might be doing to or feeling for another. I can hardly hold you _accountable_ , dear! It simply hurts to know that something I covet so deeply has been enjoyed by others."

"Well, like you said... It's been ten years."

Emma growls, blushing uncomfortably, before giving in to curiosity as she drinks in full lips and dark lashes.

"And, I mean... You and Graham-..."

But she breaks off as the brunette shakes her head with a wry smile.

"No. Not since you..."

"Oh."

The blonde swallows, feeling a little guilty although she knows logically she has no reason to. Sensing this, Regina shakes her head once more with conviction and scolds huskily

"I have only _myself_ to blame for how this has all worked out. It's not as though I would have expected you to remain celibate! I mean, _look_ at you!... I'm just... Well, I suppose I'm conflicted. A part of me wants to know what you've been up to- not out of any sense of ownership, rather simple and perhaps _perverse_ curiosity- but another part of me can't _stand_ the thought... When we were in your room at Granny's and your laptop was showing that series of photographs on the screen... That was hard for me. Seeing you with someone else."

She admits, and the younger woman frowns as she contemplates this last remark thoughtfully

"Regina, I was eighteen when you sent me away. A lot has happened since then, and of _course_ I've changed and been with other people... But I'm here _now_. I'm here in Storybrooke, I'm part of your life again, and I'm down here shivering in a fucking _snowstorm_ with you because I just somehow just knew you'd be out here and I was worried that you might not be feeling so great following what happened before... So I'm going to suggest we err on the side of 'perverse curiosity' and finish what we started before either one of us winds up with pneumonia."

Emma grins, and while she still looks a little uncertain in the light of the brunette's admission, she tests the waters by digging in her nails once again, and this time she is rewarded with a hard buck of sharp hips against her own- driving playful fingers deliciously deeper- and the Mayor's violent kiss.

Slipping her own hand down into the restrictive confines of the darker woman's dress pants, she teases her cruelly before taking pity and focusing her attention on where it best garners a breathless response. Closing her eyes and listening to shallow moans she remembers with startling clarity, she mirrors Regina's previous words quietly

"If I'd known.. I'd have missed you terribly..."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Not right now. I don't know _what's_ to come, but I do know that whatever your feelings are about my past... No one ever _replaced_ what we had. I never found 'this' again... I never even knew I was _looking_ for this until coming back here and allowing you into my head... I can't promise to believe, but I can promise to _listen_... I... I want what you want, too. I want to move on. I want to be _happy_... I'm not offering you forgivenesses, Regina, because I don't know what more there is to come. I'm offering you my trust... Please... Please don't let me regret it."

"Never."

The brunette whispers into soft curls; the blonde's hair flickering madly in the wind against the rock, while her own blows forwards to shroud their murmurs with darkness.

"I love you."

She allows- the words barely audible spoken against the Saviour's lips- and the younger woman lets out a quiet sob as she throws her arm around slender shoulders; the fingers of her other hand picking up their delectable pace.

"You too... "

Shuddering as deep waves of pleasure ripple through her core, Regina bites at the blonde's lip as the latter had done to her; sinking in her teeth until she feels the younger woman shiver against her with a muted cry.

Up above, two gulls call back shrilly, and each woman laughs breathlessly as they cling to the other for just a moment.

"So what now?"

Emma asks eventually, only now aware of how bitterly cold it really is. Regina swallows as she pulls back and regards the blonde sombrely; her recent ecstasy threatened by a wave of trepadition, but she tells herself to find solace in the way the younger woman has yet to remove the arm holding her close.

"Now... I think I need to show you something."


	44. Chapter 44

"Regina, where are we going?"

The blonde asks as she follows the Mayor into a quieter part of town. She tries to recall if she's ever been this way before, but isn't sure. They have passed the school- the school where  _Snow White_  teaches, to be specific- but they have since turned off onto a smaller path where skeletal trees loom above them. She imagines that in summer, the path is shrouded by a canopy of leaves that will cascade down in a scarlet blanket come fall.

"We're almost there."

The brunette replies mysteriously, and Emma huffs as she throws her companion a look that suggests this isn't exactly the most  _informative_  response, and receives a small smile at her expense.

"It's pretty here. All of Storybrooke is pretty... I remember that too, now."

"For the most part, yes. Some of that appeal hides an uglier truth."

Regina sighs, and the younger woman shrugs as she points out

"That's true of anywhere."

"Yes. But usually there are others in on that truth  _also_ , it is not a sole burden."

"Well, that's what  _I'm_  here for."

Emma smiles, and when the brunette asks with a frown if she's joking, she admits that she doesn't really know.

"This way."

The Mayor instructs, and she leads them out into a clearing peppered with headstones.

"A graveyard?"

The blonde asks uncertainly, and Regina offers a wry smile as she confides darkly

"I presumed it would be better to just  _take_  you here rather than profess that we were going anywhere so ominous. This is a peaceful place, but given that the tone was already heavy, it seemed a little dramatic.

"You  _are_  pretty dramatic."

Emma agrees, and she grins when dark eyes narrow at her irritably.

"So what are we  _doing_  in this dramatic, ominous place, Madame Mayor?"

"... Is this  _really_  the place to be so annoying, dear?"

"... Ok, I guess not. I didn't mean to be disrespectful or anything."

The blonde mumbles, and full lips pull into a sinful smirk as Regina confides

"I more meant that it offers the potential of great  _ease_  in ridding myself of a body."

"Oh!"

The younger woman laughs appreciatively, before coming to a stop before one of the graves and looking up at the darker woman curiously.

"So... This curse you claim brought everyone here, where no one seems to age and you guys have this whole Groundhog Day deal going on apparently... Who's actually getting  _buried_  in that little scenario?"

"No one in a long time, fortunately."

Regina answers; not missing the blunt care with which Emma has implied that she has yet to be convinced about any of this, but impressed by how quick the younger woman's mind is. It is a trait she is often faced with when talking to Henry, and she allows herself a small amount of hope that it might be the sign of one that can be won over with evidence rather than socially acceptable logic.

"There have been a few deaths since we came here; accidents mostly, and a couple due to the cold. Most of these graves were brought over with the curse, though. Some I don't even know who they belong to...  _This_  one I know plenty about, though."

She gestures towards a large mausoleum that hulks over the stones, and the blonde assesses it curiously as she takes a couple of steps closer.

"What's that crest?"

"It's my family crest. This is my father's grave, I brought it over with the curse."

"Oh. Sorry."

Emma offers awkwardly, and the brunette smiles at her as she beckons for the younger woman to follow her over to the door of the crypt.

"It's alright, dear. It's  _me_  that should be sorry... I suppose you might not have gotten far enough into the book to know why, but perhaps as we're here I should offer full disclosure... My father died by my hand. I used his heart to strike the curse."

"... I preferred it when I just thought you were a hundred percent crazy."

The blonde admits quietly, as she steps into the musky darkness of the mausoleum to view a large marble tomb in its centre.

"I can imagine... I would feel the same way."

Regina nods solemnly, placing her hands on the marble plinth and glancing up warily before she pushes forwards. Emma makes a small noise of surprise, but otherwise shows no sign of running off as she wartches the brunette slowly reveal a hidden flight of stairs beneath the tomb.

"Okay... Wasn't expecting that."

The younger woman whispers, and she hesitates uncertainly when the Mayor beckons for her to follow her down into whatever waits below.

"It's okay, there's nothing down there that can harm you."

Regina assures as she turns back upon noticing the lack of footsteps following her on pitted stone.

"Yeah. Okay... Are there like... Bodies and stuff down there, though?"

"Not really my style, would you think, dear?"

"No, I wouldn't have thought so, but you just told me you killed your  _father_ , so I figure I'm allowed to ask."

Emma mutters as she follows Regina apprehensively down the stairs.

"Of course you are... And incidentally, I wouldn't have thought you'd be scared of this sort of thing. You always  _liked_  the macabre."

"Yeah, in a  _book_. I'm not  _scared_ , I just don't want to see a bunch of dead people. I've seen enough of those to sate any morbid curiosity and then some."

"You have?"

The Mayor frowns, and the blonde sighs as she elaborates stiffly

"I've been on the streets when it got cold, and I've worked in a job where I had close ties with the law; I've seen dead people. None of them looked like they do in the movies."

"No. The dead don't look like that."

Regina agrees, and she sees the weight behind her words sink in as Emma looks away uncomfortably and gestures that they should continue on into the small room at the bottom of the stairs.

"There was a time when I would have thought out of the two of us,  _I'd_  be the most likely to be a murderer."

The younger woman laughs; the sound high and uneasy.

"That's not who I am anymore-" Regina snaps back vehemently, before asking dryly "-and was that something you thought about  _often_?!"

"No. Just with how we each are on the surface, it was a no brainer."

Shaking her head in bemusement, the brunette offers the younger woman a small smile as she disagrees gently

"No... You don't have anything so heinous in you... Now, if the question was which of us might knock someone  _out_ , it would be another story! But... You're  _good_."

"Well, I am the Saviour."

The blonde sighs with an unconvinced roll of her eyes, and Regina shrugs as she displays her palms and agrees

"You are."

"So what did you want to show me?"

Emma asks, looking around the small room curiously; the walls studded with dark holes like blind eyes, some of which have been filled with various objects and trinkets.

"Well, for one, just the room itself. It may not prove that I am the Evil Queen, but I would gather it  _does_  serve to illicit a few questions. I am unfamiliar with other precincts in this world, but I would be willing to bet that secret rooms within crypts are not simply a perk of being Mayor."

"I think that's probably true."

The blonde agrees, stalking closer to the far wall to spy some of the obscurities up close.

"Look but don't touch. With the curse in tact, there shouldn't be anything here that can hurt you, but there could be consequences should anything break."

"Your confidence in me is  _touching_ , Regina."

Emma sighs, and the darker woman moves to stand beside her and points out bluntly

"We wouldn't  _be_  here if I didn't have the utmost confidence in you, Miss Swan."

Green eyes find hers for a moment, before the younger woman swallows and mumbles under her breath that she suposes that's true.

"This is where I came to mix up the potion I gave you. Right here, using some of the vials you're looking at."

"There's no eye of newt."

"Why  _would_  there be? One wouldn't use such a thing for a memory charm."

"... Right."

Emma nods uncomfortably, reading the Mayor's confusion as entirely genuine. She looks back at the vials in question and feels an odd tingling sensation creep down her spine. She knows that what the brunette is telling her is crazy, but looking at those ornate bottles with their impossible contents leaves her feeling a little faint. Shaking it off, she moves slowly on through the room to spy the rest of Regina's treasures, coming to a stop as what had started as something almost unheard becomes louder.

At first she'd thought that thrumming was her own blood in her ears, but as she closes in on a small throughway into another unknown, she realises it's not coming from inside of  _her_  at all.

"What's that noise?"

"You can hear it?"

Regina asks, and to Emma it sounds as though the brunette's voice comes from somewhere very far away; that rhythmic beating almost deafening in its madness.

"Of course I can hear it! What's through there?"

The blonde turns back to the Mayor, and she finds herself almost shouting to be heard over that awful sound.

"Something that you're not ready to see."

The brunette replies softly, reaching out and pulling at the younger woman's hand to draw her away from the deepest chasm of her vault.

As soon as she's back on the other side of the room with the Mayor, Emma is able to think clearly again, and she looks at the darker woman with a frown as she points out a little breathlessly.

"I thought the whole  _point_  of this was so that you could prove this whole thing to me?"

"It is... But it isn't to  _break_  you. You've read the book, you know what's through there."

"... Regina... That's not  _possible_. You know it, and I know it, and-"

"-No. You  _don't_  know it- you don't  _want_  to know it- and I know the truth... But that is not something I want you to see. There are other ways to convince you, without having to put you through that."

"But-"

"-Emma, there is a difference between pictures on a page and something you can see, hear, smell,  _touch_. You  _know_  what that sound is... Sooner or later the truth will outweigh your stubbornness... I need you to believe me, but I need you to remain  _sane_."

"Regina, I mean, I-"

"-Come. We can discuss this over coffee. I've shown you everything I meant to show you down here."

"Okay."

Emma sighs, reading the finality in the darker woman's tone. In all honesty, she finds herself secretly relieved. She knows that there is no way the Mayor- the Queen- is hiding a secret collection of beating hearts beneath the town, but she'd just as soon not go into the room with that ominous sound either way.

"...You know, I would have figured if the Queen needed to use a heart for a spell, she'd have plenty to choose from without needing to take one from someone close to her."

She muses as she follows Regina up the stairs and back out into the graveyard with a silent sigh of relief.

"I had to use the heart of the thing I loved the most."

The brunette explains solemnly, and Emma thinks on this as they make their way back beneath the skeleton trees into town.

"I guess it's shitty to look at Mary Margaret and wonder if you shouldn't have just killed her so that none of this would have happened..."

"Rumplestiltskin made it so that I couldn't."

"Oh."

"... And I'm glad that he did so. I would have lost everything if I had killed her before the day of the curse."

"Yeah?"

"... Have coffee with me. Then finish the book. You'll understand when you do."


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm going to try to stop saying that I struggle with these chapters! It's an awkward story with a lot up in the air, so I guess it's probably quite obvious and me saying so will get horribly repetitive! I wanted to add a lead-in to the following conversation, rather than just launch straight into it, so I wrote up these scenes to try and fill in a few bits and pieces before getting to the heart of things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and reviews would be lovely :)

Pushing open the door to the Diner, Emma smiles at Ruby as the brunette raises her hand in a wave before beckoning her over to the counter.

"Still snowing, huh?"

The waitress asks, gesturing to the blonde's hair which glistens with moisture. The windows of the Diner have steamed up from the hot food and conversation, and the sky has taken on such a thunderous hue that it almost looks like night has fallen from inside the cheery glow of Granny's.

"A little; it's lightening up now, but it's still settling."

Emma nods, smiling her thanks as Ruby fetches a mug and pours her a helping of coffee. She takes a seat on one of the stools that line the bar and sips at her drink, watching as the brunette goes about her business while peppering her with occasional small talk inbetween serving other customers.

"God, that woman does my head in."

Ruby confides quietly following a small altercation with a squat middle-aged woman in a rain bonnet, and the blonde grins knowingly as she remembers dealing with Miss Ginger back when she'd worked alongside the brunette all too well. Her smile fades slightly when the anecdote on the tip of her tongue has to be bitten back, as she realises that those memories are yet another thing she can't share with the young woman who had once called her a friend.

"She seems like a handful."

Is all that she says in the end, and the waitress rolls her eyes dramatically and informs her that she doesn't know the half of it.

_I do, though. I really do._

"What are you huffing and puffing about?"

A friendly voice greets from behind her, and Emma turns on her stool to spy Mary Margaret grinning at Ruby teasingly.

"Miss Ginger."

The brunette sighs, and the schoolteacher nods her complete understanding and takes a seat beside the blonde.

"Hi again."

She smiles, and Emma returns the gesture a little awkwardly; trying to stop her mind from thinking of the mild-mannered young woman as Snow White.

_Which is, of course, ridiculous._

"Hey, how's it going?"

She asks politely, inwardly a little shaken up as her mind flits between scenes from the heavy book in her bag and memories how kindly the schoolteacher had once treated her. She recalls standing in Mary Margaret's bathroom all those years ago; her fingers stained with paint from the birdhouse and her knuckles bloody with frustration. She'd nosed through the elder woman's makeup and lined her eyes a sultry black before stepping out to complete her doomed plan of seduction. When that little disaster had finally been cleared up, Mary Margaret had expressed her relief that all was well, and they'd shared a pleasantly amiable relationship for the remainder of her time in Storybrooke.

Amiable, but marred by just one tiny flaw; the clear friction between the schoolteacher and the Mayor. A seemingly awkward and confusing conflict at the time, which now takes on a whole new meaning if one were to consider the stories in Henry's book to be true.

 _Swan. Come on. Seriously. Regina is_ not _Mary Margaret's evil, magical stepmother... I mean,_ really _._

No, perhaps not, but the Evil Queen  _is_  Snow White's stepmother, and that's really all Regina has been trying to convince her of at the end of the day. She's not that person anymore, and she doesn't want to continue that old rivalry. She just wants for her to uncover the truth.

 _She was_ never _that person! For fuck's_ sake _, Swan!_

"It's going well, thank you for asking. What about with you, though? I don't mean to pry, but you look a little bemused?"

Mary Margaret confides cautiously, remembering just how prickly the blonde had seemed upon first meeting her.

_It's a front. Just like before, back in the hospital, when she told you not to analyse her and that she wasn't a good person. It took quite some patience and persuasion for her to allow you in back then._

"I'm fine, I was just running something through in my head."

Emma sighs, raising a brow as the schoolteacher seems to be doing the same; Mary Margaret's brow furrowed slightly as though struck by a sudden and curious notion.

"... How are you finding working for Regina?"

The ravenheaded woman asks eventually, pushing aside the strange thoughts coming to her seemingly out of nowhere and smiling at the blonde. Emma considers this question with a hint of amusement- not to mention a light blush colouring her cheeks- and she replies mysteriously

"It's going well, she's good at what she does, and there are some pretty decent perks."

"Really?"

Mary Margaret frowns, trying to remember the last time the Mayor had so much as offered any volunteers a  _beverage_  at any of the town functions.

"Mmm."

Emma smiles, and the schoolteacher shrugs as she bares her own teeth amiably

"Well, then that's great. I'm glad you're liking it here."

"Of  _course_  she's liking it here. She gets to live with  _me_."

Ruby interrupts with a grin as she holds up the coffee pot questioningly, and Emma shakes her head with a roll of her eyes as she chuckles

"No thanks, I should head upstairs and get some work done."

"That's code for reading."

The waitress informs Mary Margaret, before smirking at the blonde as she warns

"Regina is  _not_  someone you want on your back for slacking on the job, Emma."

"Good thing she  _asked_  me to read then, isn't it?"

The blonde replies cooly, and Ruby offers her a disbelieving look as she slips from behind the counter in order to bus a newly empty booth in the corner.

"I better go."

Emma smiles at the schoolteacher as she leans down to collect her scarf and the book which she'd placed beside her seat.

"Is that... That's  _Henry's_  book."

Mary Margaret muses with surprise, recognising the front cover and the book's size immediately.

"Yeah, but I'm supposed to read it."

The blonde explains, and dark brows furrow as the schoolteacher looks up at her curiously

"Regina knows that he has this?"

"... Yeah..."

Emma nods, shrugging as she doesn't see what the big deal is. Of  _course_  the brunette knows about Henry's book, how could she have missed it? It seems rather  _more_  odd that  _Mary_   _Margaret_  should know about it.

"I gave him that book."

The schoolteacher informs, her frown deepening as she studies the hard cover thoughtfully.

"It was a while ago. I found it in my apartment- though who  _knows_  how it got  _there_!- and gave it to Henry back when he seemed to be having some trouble at home. It just seemed... I don't know...  _Right_  that he should have it."

She muses, and the blonde swallows as there is a heaviness to their current conversation that she can't quite figure out.

"Well... Regina gave it to me."

Emma explains finally, gathering the book up in her arms in a show of begging her leave. Mary Margaret seems to shake herself from her thoughts and raises a hand in farewell, offering the younger woman a smile that lights up her face considerably and confiding amiably

"Then you should go read it. Everyone needs to get lost in a tale now and then, especially fairy tales; they have a lot to teach us."

"I guess they do."

The blonde agrees quietly, and she turns for the door before the schoolteacher can impart any more troubling wisdom.

* * *

Reclining into the pile of cushions she's propped against the headboard, Emma turns the final page of the book with a slick click of her throat as she swallows.

"Snow White is my..."

She shakes her head, fighting with all her mental strength to push the insanity suggested in her lap firmly away.

 _It's a_ book _, Swan! It's a goddamn_ book _! Snow White isn't_ anything _apart from some dopey princess that can converse with woodland creatures! If that's not crazy, I don't know what is!_

Sighing uncomfortably, she flips through the last couple of pages over and over again as though hoping their content might change.

It doesn't though. The Queen still stands before Snow and her Charming and declares war on them and their kingdom. The sky still fills with an ominous cloud of purple smoke as the curse hurtles towards the castle. Charming still gathers his newborn daughter in his arms and rushes her towards the enchanted wardrobe that will provide her her escape from a brutal death.

_They found you out in the woods. You told me you'd been found in Kittery, but that's not right; that's just where you were brought. You came through to Storybrooke, only a little while before the rest of us. Your father put you in the wardrobe to save you from my men, and when I came to find you- to slaughter you- you were gone._

"... No."

Emma argues softly, telling herself that Regina must have made up her claim to suit the words written in the book.

"No..."

She repeats, turning the page back to study a picture of Snow; the fair woman's face twisted with agonising unhappiness as she holds out her arms to reach for the baby taken from her. It's only when a tear falls to splash onto the page that Emma realises she's crying.

_This is crazy..._

It is, but that doesn't thwart the confused ache in her chest and she closes the book slowly as she wipes distractedly at her cheeks. Glancing over at her phone on the nightstand, she nibbles at her lip indecisively before reaching over for it and scrolling through her contacts.

Regina answers on the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"Emma."

The brunette replies, her smile evident in her voice before she picks up on the salt that laces the blonde's.

"Are you alright?"

"... I finished the book."

"I see..."

Silence on the end of the line, but Emma can tell that the Mayor is fully alert and simply waiting for her to continue as she feels fit.

"It says Snow White is... It says the Saviour was sent to this world to save her from the Queen. It says she's supposed to return on her twenty-eighth birthday to fulfil what she was born to do..."

"It does say that."

Regina agrees quietly, and she runs her finger thoughtfully over her bottom lip as she waits for Emma to continue, but she is met with nothing but the low sound of the blonde's breathing as she seems unsure what to say or do next. Clearing her throat warily, she asks softly

"Do you want to talk?"

"... I don't know."

Emma admits finally, and the Mayor sighs as she detects genuine uncertainty in the younger woman's voice rather than anger.

"Well... I was just about to start up a fire- the  _safe_  kind, mind you- and I'm trying to decide whether to open a bottle of merlot or pignot noir... Which would you suggest?"

She asks, silently extending her hand, and for a moment she fears that she's overstepped her precarious position in this fragile situation, but then she catches a resigned sigh on the other end of the line before Emma replies seriously

"You better make it both."


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Maybe a step in the right direction... :) Hope you enjoy and please comment! :)

As she stands at the kitchen window looking up at a pale moon, Regina begins to wonder whether Emma has suffered second thoughts on coming to speak to her. She supposes she would understand if this were the case, but the notion fills her with a dull and unhappy dread.

"What a mess..."

She murmurs, before glancing over her shoulder when the doorbell rings. Hurrying into the hallway, she looks up to spy Henry peering down over the banisters and orders quietly

"You stay in your room now, dear. You can read until nine if you want, but leave me to speak with her."

The boy nods, offering her first a thumbs up and then a small wave. She blows him a kiss before turning for the front door as his footsteps retreat quietly down the landing. Fussing her hair into place, she opens the door and takes a step back as the cold air hits her like a fist.

"Where's you car?"

She frowns, eyeing the blonde who shivers visibly inside her jacket.

"Left it at Granny's."

Emma informs her, entering the grand hallway and removing her boots which are wet with a concoction of snow and grit.

"Are you  _crazy_?!"

Regina frowns, and Emma straightens back up as she slips out of her jacket and regards her somberly

"I honestly don't know at this point."

She confides in a low voice, and the brunette studies her seriously before beckoning her into the drawing room.

"I can well imagine. Come, take a seat and warm up, you must be freezing! Why on earth did you walk!?"

"I was trying to clear my head."

"Did it work?"

"No... But, I didn't run anyone over while trying to get my mind around all this  _either_."

"I suppose that's something."

The Mayor agrees, and she leads the younger woman over to the sofa and pulls a decorative throw from a trunk beside the liquor cabinet.

"Here, take this. I'll go get some glasses and the wine. Do you want anything else?"

"No thanks. Wine sounds great right about now."

Emma shakes her head as she pulls the throw over herself and leans in towards the flames roaring in the hearth. They cast her hair with a golden light which flickers softly over sharp features, and Regina studies her silently for a moment before turning towards the kitchen. When she comes back, she carries two long-stemmed wine glasses in her hand along with a bottle of merlot which she places on the low coffee table in front of the sofa before taking a seat beside the blonde.

"Drink."

She encourages quietly, pouring Emma a glass and handing it to her. The younger woman takes it and obeys her readily. Sipping from her own glass, Regina watches the blonde pensively, before leaning back against the cushions and staring into the flames.

"So..."

She prompts quietly, and Emma glances up at her and offers an awkward shrug of her shoulders as she opens her mouth to say something, but struggles to find the words.

"You read the book."

The darker woman muses softly, and thick curls catch the light as the blonde nods slowly.

"Yeah... For what it's worth, yes, I read it."

"What does that mean? 'For what it's worth'?"

"Well, I mean... I read a  _book_ , Regina. That doesn't  _change_  anything."

"... Which one of us are you trying to convince? If it's  _me_ , it's not working."

"Regina..."

"Emma. You  _know_  that what you've read is true. You  _do_! You just don't know how to allow yourself to  _accept_  it."

The brunette sighs, and the younger woman swallows but doesn't argue back. Looking up from the flames, Regina studies the blonde thoughtfully; reaching out and tucking long hair behind the latter's ear.

"What part of it bothers you the most?"

She asks gently, and Emma looks at her with open exasperation and growls irritably

"Oh,  _I_  don't know! You being some evil, conniving villain that tried to wipe out my family?! A town full of amnesia sufferers waiting for me to save them?! Drinking coffee whilst having idle conversation with a woman that is apparently my  _mother_?!"

The blonde's voice cracks at this point, and Regina raises a brow as she pushes delicately

"Why does finding out who Snow White is upset you so much?"

"What part of that knowledge  _shouldn't_  upset me?"

Emma challenges hysterically, before lowering her elbow onto her knee and her head into her hand.

"Fuck."

She grumbles wearily, and the brunette nods slowly as she places her hand gently on the younger woman's shoulder and fingers the collar of her sweater.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this right now, but she loved you. She did. She loved the idea of you."

"Yeah," Emma sighs, massaging her temples with her head still lowered and her words coming out low and muffled, "If she's Mary Margaret, I can buy that. She was nice to me when I was here before.  _Super_  nice to me, and I never got why. We just kind of clicked..."

"Isn't that... Isn't that kind of a good thing?"

Regina asks cautiously, and the blonde finally looks up at her with pink-tinged eyes as she shows her palms in a helpless gesture.

"It's just... I had so many thoughts about what my parents might be like. Some were wonderful, and some were- what I called before this crazy trip- 'realistic'. I'd worked so hard over the years to guard myself against  _any_  feasible situation if I ever found them. I'd covered the unplanned pregnancy route, the drug addict route, the 'we just didn't want kids' route, hell, even the  _rape_  route. I spent nights trying to build up the internal armour that could take 'I just didn't want you, I never wanted you' while looking me dead in the eye, so I could just know for  _certain_  and get on with my  _life_! I ran through each and every plausible reason- each imaginable situation- and I convinced myself that I could take whatever the outcome might be... I don't have a  _plan_  for being the fucking offspring of a  _fairytale_  character!"

"... It would cause some alarm if you  _did_ , dear."

The Mayor replies softly, and she meets Emma's incredulous glower with an apologetic smile that lacks any trace of humor and confides quietly

"You may not have a plan or know how to deal with the situation, but I will tell you one thing; you are not going to be put in a position where you have to hear anything so hateful and negative. If you break this curse, it will ruin me. I trust you understand that now better than when I've eluded to it before. The  _only_  reason I want you to succeed with this is because I want good things for you. That's the  _only_  reason. Good things for you, and to make up for what I've done. I would  _never_  put you in a situation where I thought you might get hurt... That may sound ludicrous given what I've already done, but all I can say is that I'm sorry and that none of those decisions were made during the time that I really knew you. I pushed you away when I needed you most, Emma, because I couldn't stand the possibility of  _hurting_  you. I know the alternative wasn't ideal- not even close- but I did the only thing that I could.

I  _was_  the Evil Queen, and Snow  _is_  your mother...

But that doesn't have to be as awful as you think. I've  _changed_ , you  _know_  that. You  _know_  the person I've become. What you have here is the opportunity to find what you've always been looking for. You have parents here that no matter  _how_  many years have passed and what has  _happened_  over that time would accept and love you unconditionally. I  _know_  this. I'm not just saying it, Emma, I  _know_  it. You really  _could_  be happy here... We've both said that we want to be able to move on and enjoy what we have, and we can still  _do_  that. I'll help you break the curse and I'll help you  _after_  that... So will Henry."

"Oh God."

Emma squeezes her eyes shut as she clenches her fists, and Regina swallows before moving carefully closer and pulling the blonde into her. She expects some resistance and she gets it initially, but she keeps her arms firmly wrapped around the younger woman and eventually Emma relents and sinks into her.

"I can't change what I've done. I would if I could... And I hope you understand that I love you too much to hurt you just so that I could have what I want. If I didn't think that you being here was the right thing for you, I wouldn't have come looking for you. True, it was written that you would come and find me, but I wouldn't have made that first move. I'm not the Saviour, and as much as I regret the situation enforced on the people in this town, I can  _live_  with it. If I thought keeping them enslaved to this false reality would mean you would be spared, I would have done everything in my power to make it so. But I've had ten years to think about this, Emma, and ten years to see what this town has to offer you. I may be the one at fault, but I am still presenting you with everything you've been looking for, and more. I can give you your parents, I can give you a home- a true home- and I can give you a chance to be with the son you had to give away. The son that I raised to know the truth about where he came from and that desperately wants you to be a part of his life. Of  _our_  lives. I can give you my love, and my friendship, and I can give you someone to talk to about all of this that knows you aren't crazy, but accepts that you might still feel that way.

I know I did a terrible thing. I've known that for years, but it was still horrible to hear it from your lips and put to me the way you did down at the docks. I know that I have hurt you in a way one person ordinarily  _can't_  hurt another person... But I wish I hadn't... And I can give you so  _much_  now to try and make up for at least a fraction of the effect my decisions had on your life.

I love you."

She finishes quietly, her grip on the blonde still strong, as she waits for an answer.

 _Any_  answer.

For a moment, she thinks that the younger woman will deny her one and push her away as she feels Emma move against her, but then the blonde's arm wraps slowly around her waist to hug her back; the younger woman's thumb stroking gently over the base of her ribs.

"I love you, too."

Emma murmurs quietly, and the brunette sighs contently as she rests her head against the blonde's.

"... Does that mean you believe? At least a  _little_? In what the book says?"

"... Don't make me say it."

The younger woman growls uncomfortably, but Regina knows her well enough to take some solace in this answer, and she buries her nose into thick curls that smell of honey, before nuzzling deeper and biting lightly at the blonde's throat.

"Uh..."

Emma hums, digging her fingers into the Mayor's side, and the brunette bites a little harder as her hand slips below the throw. She moves to straddle the blonde, who in turn wraps her leg around slim thighs and pulls the darker woman down into her as she falls back to recline on the sofa.

"Do you believe?"

Regina pushes, splayed heavily over sharp hips as her eyes bore into the younger woman's below her.

"... That you're the Queen?"

The blonde replies; a small smile touching her lips which fall open as she lets out a harsh breath when a sly palm slips beneath her sweater and cruel fingers sink their nails into her stomach.

"Well?"

The brunette challenges, relishing everything familiar in the woman spread out beneath her. Green eyes lock onto brown with an unforgiving heat, before they flicker over to the desk where the Queen had first come out to play all those years ago and darken visibly.

"Show me."

Emma replies breathlessly, and Regina flashes her teeth in a dissatisfied snarl as the blonde rolls out from under her, before watching- mesmerised- as the younger woman stalks slowly over to her desk and turns back around to face her.

" _Make_  me believe it."

The blonde whispers, perching on the edge of the desk, and the brunette swallows with a shiver, before pushing herself up and accepting the bait.


	47. Chapter 47

"Emma..."

Regina warns as she closes in on the blonde, her head spinning with the countless warnings she had tried to give the oblivious young woman towards the end; remembering how terrified she had been of the darkness blossoming inside of her. Now, with Emma's bold prompt to allow that side of her out to play, she swallows; knowing that the danger inside of her has lain dormant for so long that it is unlikely to overwhelm her as it had done the night with the crop, but also stunned to have that blackness _asked_ for. She knows how the blonde can be though, particularly when it comes to a little heavy-handedness, and she shakes her head slowly as she confides

"That is a part of me I have long since vowed you would never see again."

Smirking when the younger woman sighs and opens her mouth to argue back, she steps between gently splayed thighs authoritatively and regards the blonde with unwavering dominance

"Fret not though, dear. I can show you the Queen... And I can be evil in _other_ ways."

Sharp teeth flash back at her as Emma grins impishly, and she moves forward with liquid speed and crashes her lips hungrily against the blonde's. Grabbing pert denim possesively, she pulls the younger woman flush as the latter keeps her close with a hook of her leg; meeting her wet kiss with the same breed of desperate adrenaline that the brunette remembers well. It is an almost animalistic aggression begging for release, and while the blonde's confidence has flourished notably in the ten years since they were last this close, that base portrayal of need remains the same.

"Go on, then."

Emma encourages huskily as she threads her fingers into dark hair and pulls ever so gently, and Regina groans before biting cruelly at the blonde's tongue and finding the hem of her sweater.

"Hush."

She reprimands breathlessly, pulling soft wool and scant cotton up over the younger woman's head and letting the garments fall to the floor without a care. Pulling the blonde back to her, she offers her one, last open mouthed kiss before pushing at her shoulders pointedly and forcing her down onto the desk. Emma regards her expectantly from beneath heavy lashes; her breathing audible as she grips the side of the table in anticipation.

"Make me."

She challenges boldly, and dark eyes flash with pent up rage as the Mayor wrestles open tight jeans and tugs the rough denim ruthlessly down slender legs; her actions speaking loudly of a warning that she knows will likely be ignored.

_Good. Then she'll have to learn._

"Watch your tongue."

She whispers dangerously, and Emma grins at her, taking the bait.

"Or what? You'll- _Woah_! Regina..."

She hisses suddenly, her eyes now wide and alert as the darker woman leans over her to pull a large pair of scissors from the stationary pot. The brunette parts the blades with a flick of her wrist, studying the way the firelight dances prettily across the ominous point of the blade.

"I-"

Emma starts nervously, her heart racing but making no move to protect herself, and she watches with a bizarre mixture of lust and apprehension as the Mayor lies the cool metal down flat against the warm flesh of her stomach, before dipping the sharp points into the waistband of her underwear and snipping simple cotton clean off.

"...Okay. Okay that was... Yeah."

The younger woman laughs breathlessly, wetting her lips as she looks up at Regina with sordid approval. The Mayor smirks back down at her; oscillating between dark promise and an appreciation for the blonde that comes from a much kinder, companionable place.

"Yes?"

Regina teases, placing the scissors carefully out of the way, and Emma chuckles huskily as her arousal is obvious.

" _Oh_ yeah."

She agrees, and the Mayor laughs wickedly as she stalks around the table so that the younger woman regards her upside down.

"What are you- _ah_!"

Emma yelps as the brunette reaches for both of her hands- previously lying obediently at her sides- and pulls her roughly further onto the expansive desk so that she lies looking up at the expensive light fixture above.

"Take off your bra."

Regina instructs, and the blonde props herself up onto her elbows in order to grin that the brunette should give her a hand, but the words die on her lips as she watches the darker woman slowly remove her own clothes; folding them onto the couch before stalking back to her in just the sharp promise of her heels.

"Did you not hear me?"

The Mayor inquires silkily, and Emma hesitates for a moment before doing as she's been told; the darker woman's eyes electric and demanding.

"Next time, do as I say when I say it."

Regina murmurs as she leans down to bite warningly at the blonde's shoulder, but she does so with a sly flicker of her tongue between teeth, and the younger woman's lashes flutter as she admits

"Ordinarily, I'd now be inclined to do anything _but_..."

"That doesn't surprise me, but I wouldn't recommend it."

"You're not helping."

Emma grins teasingly, before opening her eyes and freezing when the brunette's hand closes around her throat.

"Behave."

Regina orders quietly, and the younger woman studies her intently as she recognises the threat in dark eyes and what it means. It's the look Regina had thrown her more and more often in the end, and she shivers as she finds herself thinking that that look might finally make sense if the darker woman is who she claims to be.

_I have no trouble believing people would kneel for you..._

She remains silent and the Mayor raises a brow as if to question whether she's ready to play by the rules. She offers neither submission nor resistance, and instead simply holds the brunette's loaded gaze with a fire of her own.

Eventually, slowly, Regina removes her hand.

"You wanted to see the Queen."

The darker woman reminds softly as she presses down hard on the purple crescent of her teeth beneath the blonde's breast, and Emma swallows as she keeps her eyes locked with Regina's before replying quietly

"I know."

Considering sharp features pensively, the brunette nods before leaning down to kiss the younger woman gently. Closing her teeth with measured force when Emma offers up her tongue, she trails her hand down the flat expanse of the blonde's stomach and dips between her thighs. Pale fingers thread tentatively into her hair in response, and while she has always enjoyed Emma doing this before, it is a sweet act that doesn't quite compliment her current game, and she pulls away instantly.

 _Points for wariness though, dear, that_ was _a nice touch..._

Looking down on the blonde before glancing over at the grand chair in the corner, she remembers the way she had commanded Emma to kneel for her when she'd finally let her in. She recalls how genuinely _shy_ the girl had been when instructed to taste her for the first time, and she relishes those memories now with a pleasured shiver.

"I can think of better ways for you to show me your adoration."

She muses silkily, and she catches the slight flicker of bemusement that plays at the corner of the blonde's mouth and smirks. She'd almost used the word 'affection' instead, as it better suits what she means, but the implications of the word 'adoration' speak back to her days on the throne, and they provide a subtle challenge which she is curious to see met.

In the end, Emma says nothing; simply waiting to see what the brunette has in store. Taking this silence as an invitation to proceed, the brunette braces herself and climbs gracefully up onto the table to kneel over the blonde. Remembering how she had insisted that the blonde 'earn it' the last time they'd played on the desk, she smiles down hungrily before moving up the younger woman's body to make her intent clear.

"There was a time when allowing anyone what I'm allowing you would be a great honour."

She confides, unable to stop a small noise from escaping her throat as the younger woman runs sly fingers featherlight up her thighs to rest at her hips; immediately understanding of what the brunette wills of her, but the Mayor hesitates before lowering herself down to let the blonde taste her; suspecting that Emma might have a sarcastic comment to make for which she'll have to be punished. As it is, the younger woman looks up at her cooly, having considered _several_ snide remarks to counteract such a haughty statement, before deciding to speak the truth.

"Still an honour."

She sighs, and dark brows rise as Regina scoffs huskily

"What on earth has gotten into _you_?"

"Nothing yet."

Emma grins salaciously, before pulling at slim hips pointedly; running her tongue momentarily against the white scar left by her teeth all those year ago, before putting wicked velvet to use.

"Emma..."

Regina groans, her lip caught between her teeth and her eyes squeezed shut. She shudders violently as what had once been tentative and exploratory is now a skilled and dangerous talent, and she reaches out to support herself with her hand firmly planted on the blonde's stomach. Forcing her lashes open to half-mast, she studies pale flesh and taut muscle as she is unable to keep from making soft noises of content. It is not lost on her that it has been ten years since they've been so ultimately intimate, and that knowledge only serves to intensify her pleasure; able to finally see some sort of _future_ with the younger woman where she doesn't have to live in the constant fear of losing her.

_Of losing this._

"Oh god..."

She mutters through clenched teeth; dimly aware that she'd intended for this to be an exercise in dominance and making a point, but no longer caring that she allows the odd plea to escape her lips as she gets closer and closer to the edge. It is not the way she would have acted when she'd ruled as Queen, but then this isn't anything she'd _had_ when she'd sat on the throne. Power, magic and manipulation had meant she could have almost anything she'd wanted.

Almost.

But she'd never even known it _could_ be like this.

"Ah!"

She cries, and she sinks her nails into pale flesh cruely as she tenses rigidly with pleasure. Remaining that way for a moment- breathing heavily and not trusting her limbs to cooperate- she quivers with a surprised moan as Emma teases her coyly, jolting at the sensation, before bringing the flat of her palm down sharply between the younger woman's thighs.

"Ow!"

The blonde yelps, closing her legs together swiftly, and the brunette attempts to regain her breath as she pushes herself up shakily and glares down at the younger woman. Emma glares back at her; the Mayor's slap stinging in a way she can't quite decide if she appreciates or not.

"You deserved it."

Regina confides darkly, before moving back and leaning down to taste herself on the younger woman's lips.

"Bite me."

Emma grumbles, and the brunette offers her a measured look as she considers this retort thoughtfully.

"Alright. Where?"

She asks finally, and the blonde rolls her eyes as she scoffs

"I don't care, just get on with it."

Regina greets this lack of commitment to their game with a frown, before slipping her hand playfully between slim legs and adopting a wicked smirk.

"Oh my... Feeling a little frustrated, dear?"

She teases, relishing the blonde's wetness and laughing softly when the younger woman attempts to angle her hips to reap a sweeter reward.

"So bold."

She goads with a smirk into thick curls, and she removes her hand from between them to garner a growl from the blonde.

"Regina..."

Emma warns, and the brunette chuckles as she sits back up and regards the younger woman with open enjoyment of her current power.

"What, dear? You wanted to see the Queen and you got what you asked for. _I'm_ done."

She shrugs, and she waits for the stony fury she knows will greet this cruel hand. She sees a glimmer of it turning the blonde's eyes momentarily hard, before Emma surprises her and laughs softly, shaking her head.

"That really _is_ evil."

She compliments, and Regina takes care to keep her face expressionless as she shrugs.

"I'm calling your bluff, though."

The blonde sighs, and dark brows furrow as the brunette's superior mask is broken by confusion.

"How so?"

"You're not about to go and decline this opportunity."

The younger woman grins, and the Mayor rolls her eyes as she retorts silkily

"I'm afraid you might have delusions of granduer. I am the _Queen_ , whereas you... Well..."

She trails off, having meant to finish off 'you're nothing' as she has told countless others before, but even in cruel jest, she can't bring herself to say such a thing to the blonde.

"Suit yourself."

Emma replies smartly, playing her own sly hand, and she regards the Mayor cooly as the latter looks down at her seemingly unsure _who_ exactly has the power here. She would presume- naturally- that it be herself, but the younger woman's response to being left wanting is not at all what she'd expected. Narrowing her eyes, she stares the blonde down, before taking in a low breath of understanding as she watches Emma trail her fingers lazily down her stomach. Swallowing, she strives to keep her expression hard and her position in their little game clear, but when the blonde closes her eyes and opens her mouth to let out a pleasured hum, she realises this isn't a battle she's going to win. Watching slim limbs move as pale fingers dip in and out of view, she flashes her teeth angrily and grabs the younger woman's wrist.

"Stop!"

She orders furiously, and Emma laughs devilishly before yelping in surprise when the brunette pulls at her roughly; pushing apart her thighs none too gently and biting down on the sensative web of muscle on the inside of her thigh.

"Feeling frustrated?"

She mimics Regina's own words boldly, and the darker woman's retribution is swift and merciless.

"Fuck!"

Emma groans as the brunette bites harder, meanwhile slipping wicked fingers down to find slick heat and working with the clear intent to even the score swiftly and intensely.

"Don't do that again."

Regina warns, tasting the younger woman hungrily as the latter closes her eyes and grabs the sides of the desk in a death grip.

"I can do that whenever I like. Are you telling me that over the last ten years you haven't thought of me and-"

"-Of _course_ I have."

The brunette looks up and answers angrily; recognising the challenge in Emma's breathless teasing and meeting it bluntly.

"Yeah"

The blonde continues, opening one eye to regard her with less sass and more genuine curiosity, before she throws her head back with a hissed explative as the Mayor's fingers dip especially deep.

"Yes. But there are much _better_ options available to us now! I haven't waited ten years only to watch someone else play with my toys!"

A frown at this as Emma struggles with the possessive insinuation of Regina's words, but she supposes now that she remembers what they'd had, she doesn't so much mind the implication. It is not like her at all, but then _nothing_ about the way their relationship has ever worked has been her norm. The darker woman has always pulled so much more from her than she'd known she'd had inside, and she pushes away her annoyance as she accepts the Mayor's words as irritable and in the heat of the moment.

"I gave you first dibs, you declined."

She points out reasonably, and the brunette sighs as she supposes this is a fair point.

"I'm used to having complete control. I know I never had it over you, but it was close. You've gotten bold, dear, which is something I'm going to have to learn to deal with. It is not something I've been faced with before... That said... You wear it well."

"Yeah?"

The blonde grins, her eyes closed again in imminent bliss.

"Yes, Miss Swan."

Regina corrects silkily, before bowing her head and finishing what she's started. She allows the odd touch of her teeth and rough dip of her fingers; recalling how she had never quite grown to _like_ the way Emma had a preference for being treated with such a heavy hand, despite _enjoying_ the fact immensely from a carnal perspective. She finds that she feels the same way now- no matter how bold the younger woman has become- and she bites lightly at wet flesh as she knows will be appreciated, illiciting a telling hum as the blonde tenses up and shivers, before stroking the soft skin of her thigh gently and kissing the sharp peek of her hip.

"I missed you."

She confides seriously, aware that she has said the same thing countless times, but not caring as it's still so hatefully true.

"Yeah," Emma agrees dazedly as she twitches with small jolts of aftershock, her breathing quiet but audible, "holy shit, maybe you _are_ the Queen."

She pants with an exhausted grin, and the brunette regards her with a thin smile as she muses

"I told you. I also told you I've changed... That was... That was something else."

She swallows, and the blonde nods as she chuckles quietly and finally opens her eyes to look up into dark coals with unmasked affection.

"It was."

"...What would your mother say?"

Regina teases tentatively, and Emma holds her gaze silently, before throwing her arm over her eyes and groaning

"She'd probably sing some kind of song about it all."

A low chuckle at this as the brunette smiles down at the woman spread out on her desk; catching a note of tension and awkwardness in the younger woman's voice, but appreciating the effort more than she could put into words.

"You might be thinking of the Disney version."

She advises gently, before pushing herself down onto her feet and speaking softly

"We can talk about that tomorrow... Or not. It's up to you. We can talk about anything you _like_ tomorrow, but for now, I need some rest."

"Yeah, me too."

Emma agrees sleepily; the stress of the last few days taking its toll now that she's been able to find some true release.

"Are you going to stay? It's a bit cold and late to walk back to Granny's now."

"... What about Henry?"

The blonde asks, not removing her arm from her eyes, but the brunette notes the way she forms an uncomfortable fist.

"He knew you were coming over tonight. Sleep in the guest room; he won't think anything of it."

Regina replies honestly, before meeting the younger woman's tentative peek from beneath pale flesh with a smirk.

"You can borrow some underwear."


	48. Chapter 48

Walking quietly down the hall, Regina peeks in on Henry, but the boy remains fast asleep. He lies with the covers pushed down to his waist and his arms starfished out to take up most of the modest double bed. Smiling, she pulls the door closed behind her and continues down the landing, past the stairwell, until she stands outside the guest room at the opposite end of the house to her own. Taking care to make no noise, she slips into the room and smirks as she spies a couple of cornsilk curls escaping the tight ball of covers the blonde has pulled up over her head like a fort. Padding over, the plush carpet keeps her presence a secret, until she slips into bed beside her guest and pulls at the blanket.

"Ah!"

She warns quietly, ducking with more luck than skill as the younger woman thrashes out blindly at this intrusion to her slumber, and she swiftly slams her palm over the blonde's mouth to keep her from raising the alarm.

"It's me."

She hisses, and Emma blinks at her drowsily before pushing her hand away with a grunt.

"What the hell do you think you're _doing_ , sneaking up on me like that?"

The blonde scolds huskily, but she keeps her voice low, and a couple of curious glances around the room remind her of her whereabouts. This realisation is a little of a double-edged sword, as images from their previous evening flash through her head and she feels hot colour rising at her cheeks, only to be mixed up with memories of the _last_ time she'd stayed in this room. That had been a much darker time, after she'd fled back to Boston in the face of the Mayor's verbal attack on her that she'd not been able to comprehend, and she studies fine features and dark eyes thoughtfully as an obscure thought enters her mind.

"...Is it weird for you?"

She asks pensively, and Regina raises a brow as she tugs pointedly at the throw until Emma allows her to slide into the warmth beside her.

"Is what weird for me?"

"I... Never mind."

The blonde shakes her head; not quite sure how to word what she'd been meaning to ask. She'd been thinking about how the brunette looks much the same as she had all those years ago; a factor of the curse if she's to believe what she's been told over the last couple of days, and she has to admit, the darker woman's pretty complexion makes a compelling argument in favor of this insanity. She wonders what it must be like for Regina, to have known her so well- so intimately- when she'd barely been an adult, and to see her how she is now all these years later. If last night is anything to go by, she supposes she needn't ask as the brunette is clearly in favour of the hand time has dealt her, but it is an odd thought all the same, and she'd guess the affectionate while slightly possessive way the darker woman looks at her derives from more than just what she sees. It must play _a_ part though, she's not so naive as to think it doesn't. She knows Regina well- _had_ known her well- and she knows her flaws as well as everything there is to be in awe of. It matters to the Mayor that she should find her attractive. Emma doubts she would admit to it out loud, but she knows it's the truth. Therefore, it simply remains curious to her that for Regina, this is in some ways a fairly new experience, and she swallows shyly before grinning at the peturbed look the Mayor offers her in the face of being denied access to her thoughts.

"Seriously, it doesn't matter, it's like the ass-crack of dawn; there's all _sorts_ of crap muddling around up there."

She assures, tapping lightly at her skull. In doing so, the throw falls back a little to expose the black silk of the night shirt the brunette head lent her the previous evening, and Regina's frown dissipates to become a smirk as she tweaks at the collar teasingly.

"You actually wore it."

She states, and the blonde raises a brow as the Mayor's tone is almost accusatory in its goading, and she shrugs as she pulls down thick covers to display more of herself.

"Well, yeah. What did you _want_ me to do? Sleep naked?"

"... I wouldn't have been opposed."

"Yeah, well-"

"-Although, I suppose in you _not_ doing so, at least we were saved the embarrassment of matching outfits."

"...Yeah?"

Emma asks in surprise, grinning wickedly, and it's the brunette's turn to shrug as she simply holds the younger woman's gaze in a silent challenge.

"Hmm, I appreciate the imagery, but I call bull."

The blonde sighs eventually, and dark brows raise as Regina counters

"How so?"

"You're just not the sort."

"How would you know?"

The brunette asks silkily; a fair question as sleepovers had rarely been part of their repertoire.

"I've seen your underwear."

"And I've seen _yours_."

Regina challenges with a wrinkle of her nose that suggests she would like to dole out a few styling tips on this matter in future. Emma catches this small glitter of superiority and bites back easily; shaking her head with a smile.

"Ten _years_ ago doesn't count. Okay, so I didn't pack my _best_ to come sleuthing in your small town to go looking for a girl that didn't technically exist, but I promise you, my taste in lingerie is just fine."

"I-"

"-What I _meant_ was, women with underwear like yours wear nice little nighties to bed."

"... Perceptive. And it's not a 'nightie', it's a chemise. A 'nightie' is what Mary Margaret might wear."

"Well _that's_ not information I really needed at this time in the morning."

Emma groans, and Regina smirks as she appeases

"It's nothing I know for _sure_... Just being _perceptive_."

She relishes the stony look her teasing garners her, before gasping as the blonde pulls at her robe beneath the covers.

"Stop that!"

"Just want to know what you might wear under your _chemise_."

The younger woman chuckles, before yelping as the brunette catches her offending hand at her wrist and digs her nails in cruelly.

"Shush! Henry's asleep!"

The Mayor warns in an irritable whisper, and Emma obeys swiftly while trying to process this piece of information and the enormity behind it. Catching a flash of something other than mirth in the younger woman's eyes, Regina offers her a pointed look before slowly guiding the blonde's hand back beneath her robe and the silk it covers, to find warm lace.

"Does that answer your question?"

She asks in a lecturly tone that doesn't quite hide the hitch in her breath as the younger woman's fingers explore a little further.

"It does."

Emma agrees simply, and she laughs quietly as Regina makes a small noise of surprise as she rolls onto her lightly to straddle narrow hips with her hand still trapped between them and working gently.

"... _About_ Mary Margaret though..."

She continues a little less giddily, and dark eyes study her perturbedly as the brunette lets out an exasperated sigh.

" _Really_? You're going to start asking about all that _now_?"

She flickers her gaze down pointedly, and Emma shrugs as she stills her fingers and adopts a more serious expression.

"I just meant that I was wondering what you thought we should do or get into today."

"... We'll talk. If there's anything you wish to be shown or let in on, I will do so within reason. Otherwise, I will answer any questions you can think of, and fill in anything you're confused about after reading Henry's book. We will do whatever you _want_ today. And the next, and so on, and so forth."

Regina replies in a gentler tone, and Emma swallows before teasing huskily

"I like the sound of that."

Rolling her eyes as she looks up into pale features, the Mayor answers simply

"Well, in _many_ ways- even the crass, suggestive way _you_ mean- it's true. You asked to see a certain side of me last night and I delivered. That doesn't change the fact that I'm still a little in awe of our current situation and having you back, so I'd be inclined to suggest you make _use_ of that knowledge... And you can wipe that wicked smirk off your face; I know that whatever you'd decide to do, I'd enjoy, because I know _you_ , Miss Swan, and I know that 'winning' doesn't matter to you as much as _I_ do."

"Wow, you sure think pretty highly of yourself, huh?"

"Always. You know this. Of myself, _and_ of you. You were smirking at me as if to challenge me when I said we would do what you wanted; as though to suggest I might live to regret the offer. I _know_ you though, dear, and I know that while you have _many_ deviant quirks, putting me in a compromising position that I would find truly unpleasant isn't one of them. You'd get no gratification from cruelly taking me up on my offer, even if I were to _allow_ it to come to that. Which I would not."

"... Maybe I've changed."

Emma challenges quietly, once more moving her fingers lazily as she stares down at the brunette pensively, mulling over her words.

"Maybe. Have you?"

"Yeah...I've changed."

"... Would you wish to make use of my weakness if your pleasure were to be far greater than mine?"

Regina counters, softly but boldly, and she watches the younger woman as the latter considers this for a moment, and in that short stretch of time she drinks in the new lines and inperfections to the blonde's face and muses on just _how_ the girl she'd known might have changed, before slim fingers slip inside damp silk and enter her sweetly.

"No."

Emma replies finally, dipping her head to find full lips and working slowly to garner ever more breathless sounds of approval. Smiling as she lowers her mouth to the darker woman's throat, she murmurs huskily

"Hmm, I _do_ like the sound of doing what I want."

And the Mayor moans quietly in response.

"Just a shame to have to keep the volume so low."

She chuckles, and Regina reaches up to lace her arm around slim shoulders and pulls the blonde so that she lies turned with her ear to her lips and allows a slightly louder response to sly fingers, causing the younger woman to shudder abover her.

"Guess the day's not over yet."

Emma points out, pushing herself back up to watch the brunette as she begins to lose herself in her pleasure. Grinding her palm purposefully, she smirks as Regina arches her back and covers her mouth with the back of her hand to stifle her undoing. Regarding the darker woman with amused affection as the latter slowly comes down from her high and looks up at her a little dazedly, she adopts a more serious tone and muses quietly

"Though we probably _should_ talk some more."

"...We should, and we will. I'll send Henry off to school, and then I can meet you at the Diner if you'd like? I'd offer to drive you back, but I can't leave him here on his own. Otherwise, just stay and join us for breakfast."

"... I'll walk, it's ok."

The blonde replies with a shake of her head, and Regina studies her pensively before probing gently

"This is a strange situation, and one _I'm_ having to adjust to also, but I'd hope it was one you weren't _too_ unhappy about? That you are _uncomfortable_ , I can completely understand, but would you tell me the truth if I asked- foolishly, I'm sure- if you were okay?"

"I'm fine."

Emma replies automatically, before rolling her eyes with a bemused shake of her head as she catches the way the brunette raises a brow at her; thoroughly unconvinced.

"Okay, it _is_ awkward, of _course_ it's awkward, but I really _am_ fine. I need to get my head around it all is all, and you've got to understand that little more than a week ago the youngest person I really associated with was Karen- Eleanor's assistant- and she's just turned twenty-one. Not to mention, the last time I was trying not to get in someone's way in the morning was... Well, that's not important... I just... I'm processing all of this still, and it's a _lot_. I'm used to my own company, and I _like_ that because I know exactly what to expect. This is crazy, not just the curse stuff, but the _rest_ of it too, and I'm just not sure I'm ready to be part of morning chaos, and school perpetration, and all of that."

"Just how _chaotic_ do you imagine I allow things to _get_ , Miss Swan?"

Regina challenges, but she smiles to show she's only jesting, and she nods as she murmurs that she understands.

"So long as you're sure you're okay."

"I am. I'd tell you if I wasn't."

"You would?"

"You know, I think I _would_... Talking things out with you has always ended up being the right choice before."

"... My, you really _have_ grown up."

The brunette muses, and Emma glowers at her before slipping from the covers in an uncharacteristic glimmer of dark silk. stripping off the Mayor's pyjamas, she asks belatedly

"What time is it, anyway? It doesn't even look _light_ out."

"It was ten to five when I woke up."

" _What_?! Why the _hell_ are you up at _that_ kind of time!?"

"I couldn't sleep. I woke up and remembered you were here, and... It made me happy."

"You know, _sleep_ will do that too."

The blonde grumbles as she tosses the darker woman's night shirt onto the bed and steps out of silk drawstring pants to reveal the burgundy flash of the brunette's underwear. She catches Regina drinking in the sight shamelessly and grins.

"I'll give them back later."

"No need. It's an improvement."

The Mayor sniffs as she watches Emma pull on her jeans and top from the neat pile left on the dresser the previous evening.

"You realise I'm not a _kid_ anymore, right? I'll bet I own _plenty_ you'd approve of."

"Yet you packed monotonous black cotton..."

"I packed for a week of work, and didn't factor on you wanting to _fuck_ me."

"... Perhaps not, but what about what _you_ wanted?"

"I-"

"-What _were_ you thinking about in the elevator?"

"The elevator?"

"Back in your apartment, before you seemed a little out of it. _Whatever_ it was, it wasn't plain black cotton thoughts."

"How did you..."

"I've seen the look you get when your mind's somewhere sordid."

"I was... I was thinking about back in the motel. Back when I told you I'd always wanted to do it in an elevator. I was thinking how maybe we could finally make that happen, but I had no idea _where_ those thoughts were coming from."

"I see... I'm sorry, that must have been very confusing."

"And then some!"

Emma agrees as she ties back her hair and locates her boots.

"... Is it _still_ something you want to cross off the list?"

Regina asks coyly, and she smirks as the blonde turns to study her lain out lazily on the bed.

"Don't you?"

"You're dodging the question... Have you done it already with someone else?"

The brunette asks, making sure to keep her tone light and even, while her mind throws her several damned images of blonde on chrome and mirrored lips parted in ecstasy as pale fingers flutter senselessly over floor buttons. Nipping at her tongue, she stares the younger woman down curiously.

"I... Look, if you ask me stuff like that, I don't know what you actually want me to _do_. Do you want the _truth_? Because I think a part of you does and a part of you doesn't."

"...You're right. I was teasing you, and I suppose I _am_ curious, but it does anger me to know that you've-"

"-I never have."

"Sorry?"

"I've never done it in an elevator. I was just asking."

"Oh... Interesting."

The brunette muses, smiling with false innocence as she watches the blonde pat down her pockets to check she has her room key.

"I'll meet you later?"

"I believe you owe me at least _one_ breakfast. I'll be at Granny's for nine."

"I'd argue, but given how things have all turned out, that's maybe true... Ugh, I think it's raining."

Emma sighs as she peeks out between the curtains, and Regina smirks as she listens to the telling patter confirming the blonde's words.

"That's alright, you're already wet."

She confides silkily, and the younger woman raises a brow as she meets her gaze for a moment before stalking to the door.

"...Perceptive."

"Very... Have a think about what you might want to do later. As I said, you'd be a fool not to benefit from my offer."


	49. Chapter 49

Smiling as Ruby tops up her coffee, Emma listens dutifully to the waitress's giddy explanation of her previous evening while trying not to allow some of the trouble she feels inside show on her face. The young brunette's story is entertaining and filled with the typical amusing misfortune the blonde remembers well, but this just works to further convince her that everything the Mayor has told her is somehow- impossibly- true; a notion she has agreed to explore, but has not yet entirely accepted. Ruby tells her of how she and Billy had been messing around in the woods by the old well, but 'messing around' is all that it had been. Ten years of open flirtation that seems neither to have died down nor culminated into anything, and that's only counting the time during which the blonde has known her. It seems the two simply live on a plateau of coquetry, and Emma makes a note to ask Regina more about this. As if on cue, Ruby stops her excited chatter as her eyes flicker to the door, and she nods over at the Mayor who shuts the fogged up glass behind her and leans her umbrella amongst several others on a small mat laid out beneath the coatstand.

"I'm guessing she's here to see you?"

"Yeah."

The blonde agrees, smiling over her shoulder at the brunette, who seems momentarily unsure how to respond as the expression she saves for Emma is not one she often uses in public. Eventually offering the younger woman a simple nod of acknowledgement, she gestures towards one of the booths in the corner before taking a seat.

"What do you two even find to _talk_ about? I struggle just making _small_ talk with the woman, and I can talk to _anyone_!"

Ruby murmurs under her breath as Emma hops down from her stool and gathers her jacket and mug to move over to the booth. She shrugs uncomfortably, pushing away her impulse reaction to stand up for the Mayor in favour of simply telling the waitress that they have more in common than she might think. She supposes that if the subject of the curse wasn't doing a number on her skull, she might well bite back and tell Ruby to quit viewing Regina in such a negative light, but she suspects that the dynamics of the town might be rather more complicated than she had once thought, and wonders if it is the waitress to blame for her narrow-mindedness or the Queen.

_Oh god, something tells me I'm going to need a Tylenol before this day is over..._

Ruby responds to her mild statement with a shrug of her own; looking rather unconvinced. Emma turns and walks away before she can say more on the matter. She recalls how she had found it vexing all those years ago that nobody seemed to understand the Mayor or have anything nice to say about her. Part of that had been down to sheer confusion, but another part of it had been a protective anger at the fact. She knows first hand what it's like to feel dismissed and disliked for no other reason than others not even _trying_ to scratch beneath the surface, and while she knows now that Regina would never allow any here a chance to do so anyway, it still fills her with a sense of sadness that the brunette has chosen to live this way for twenty-eight years.

She supposes she understands a little better how the Evil Queen- should the book be true- might have allowed herself to be worn down by her nemises's cursed child as easily as she had been... The open offer of simple companionship.

"What are you thinking about?"

Regina asks her as she slips into the booth opposite her with a small frown furrowing her brow.

"You, mostly."

Emma sighs, studying delicate features she has come to know so well and offering a weary smile.

"Then why are you frowning?"

The brunette demands, her own dark brows knitted together irritably, causing the blonde to laugh.

"Relax, it wasn't anything unbecoming. I was just thinking it must have been horribly lonely for you all these years."

"What, without you around, you mean?"

Regina replies silkily, but her snideness is mostly for show, and they both know it.

"That too."

The blonde agrees levelly, and dark eyes bore into her before the Mayor sighs and leans back against the red vinyl of the booth.

"I've told you it was lonely several times before. It was doubly so after you... Left. As Henry has grown older, it has become much more manageable; the boy has developed good conversational skills over time."

"It seems like it."

"Though, maybe that shouldn't be too surprising. After all, his mother always has many interesting things to say also."

"She does."

Emma agrees cryptically, and Regina holds her gaze for a moment, before beckoning Ruby over and ordering breakfast. The same order that Emma had fulfilled time and time again when she'd been younger and helping out at the Diner, and she smiles wistfully and orders herself a brownie with a small tick to her jaw as she can feel the darker woman looking at her disapprovingly.

"You enjoy winding me up, don't you?"

The Mayor muses when Ruby leaves, and the blonde grins in agreement before stating simply

"I do, and it amuses me sometimes the sorts of things that will get on your nerves. I don't do it on purpose, though- not the little things- it's just the stuff you hold me accountable for isn't really the same stuff as anyone else ever has."

"I don't 'hold you accountable', I merely find it frustrating when you fail to look after yourself."

"I look after myself fine, Regina."

The younger woman sighs, but not unkindly.

"... Yes, it would appear that you must do, I suppose my concern is just habit."

The brunette explains, and she watches a light blush creep across pale cheeks curiously. Looking up as their breakfast is placed in front of them with a smile from Ruby- solely directed at the blonde- she applies a light spread of butter to her English muffin and takes a bite.

"You know those things have a pretty high sodium content, right?"

Emma asks, and the Mayor stills with the muffin halfway to her mouth, chewing slowly and regarding the younger woman with narrowed eyes. The blonde flashes her a decidedly wicked grin, and takes a purposeful bite of rich chocolate which she savours openly until the darker woman looks away with an irritable sigh.

"I would imagine, Miss Swan, that you might have any number of questions for me. Perhaps desist with playing the fool and make better use of my time."

"I reckon you find being around me a _perfectly_ good use of your time."

The younger woman counters boldly, but her smirk is short lived as she stares into the depths of her coffee pensively and strives to corral her thoughts so as to take the brunette up on her offer to answer her many questions. A great deal of what she's been ruminating over in her head the last couple of days centres on Mary Margaret and the man lying unconscious in hospital who had once been her father.

_If the story is to be believed._

She frowns, wishing she could shut that sceptical voice out for a while as it only serves to complicate and confuse matters further, but she supposes she has been cynical most of her life, and it has often ended up serving her well. It is a hard habit to drop, and so she does her best to simply ignore it for the time being.

_I want to ask you about my mom. About my dad. About how they were and why they did what they did. About..._

She blocks any further thoughts of this nature. She will ask about Mary Margaret before too long she guesses, but she's not sure she's ready just yet, and so she goes for a more manageable line of questioning.

"I was thinking about all this when talking to Ruby just now, and about how the curse affects relationships."

A minute frown graces the Mayor's forehead, and Emma raises a brow as she calls the brunette out on the reason behind the sudden tension.

"Not like that... And while I understand some stuff about what I might have indulged in over the last ten years irks you, please give me at least _some_ credit."

"...She's arguably attractive, if that's your type."

Regina replies baitingly, and Emma rolls her eyes as she replies tersely

"She is, and that has nothing to do with it. Haven't we come a bit far for you to start questioning my loyalty? Or do you _really_ need me to keep-"

"-Alright. I take your point."

The brunette interrupts as she can tell she's hit a nerve. Regarding the younger woman levelly she admits

"I don't _know_ why I said that. I suppose I'm anxious about what you might ask me today, as I'm used to having control over most situations, and in this instance where everything matters so much, I'm suffering from having very little power to make things go as I'd like them to. It's in my nature to be defensive, and as irrational as I am _well_ aware it is, your relationship with Ruby has always left me jealous... _Particularly_ this time around, as you let her in so _easily_ , whereas I felt challenged by you so often."

"... So you _do_ know why you said it."

Emma replies quietly, and she offers a tight smile before continuing seriously

"I know you can get defensive, and I'm the last person that has any right to call you on it. I get defensive, and I get aggressive if I don't feel comfortable in a situation. I challenged you and took longer to feel comfortable around you because there was something there between us that I couldn't figure out, and the intensity of it scared me. You also have to _appreciate_ that when I got here, Ruby's line of conversation was what wine I might like and my thoughts on a bunch of movies that were released when I was still in diapers, whereas the conversation between _yourself_ and I pertained to an elusive missing girl you were suspiciously vague about and a bunch of small hints that meant nothing to me at the time. I couldn't figure you out and so I didn't immediately let you in... You need to _stop_ with the jealousy, though."

"I-"

"-You were jealous of almost _every_ relationship I had when I was here before."

"-Look, I..."

Regina struggles to find words that aren't tainted with anger; feeling uncomfortably put on the spot and despising the younger woman for it.

_Mostly as she speaks the truth, and it is something I never could control._

To her surprise, the blonde simply shrugs as she continues thoughtfully

"I kind of get it, though. It bothered me a little back then, but I understand now... At least I _think_ I do. You liked me, and you'd done a hell of a lot for me and there was a powerful bond between us. In the back of your mind though, it must always have been shrouded by the knowledge that you had this great big secret that might cause everything we were building to crumble. Nobody else that was talking to me and befriending me had that lurking over them. Given all the things you say you've done, I'd say that burden is fair... It's just sometimes what's 'fair' stings like a bitch a couple of years down the line when you try to make amends."

Studying the younger woman with an unreadable expression as she feels the blonde has just succeeded in allowing her to grasp what she'd never quite been able to reach before from the complex web of her thoughts, Regina eventually offers her a smile and asks pointedly

"So, what _was_ it you were wondering about relationships, dear?"

"Well, I was thinking Ruby and Billy have a clear connection between them, and always seem to be flirting with each other."

"They certainly aren't _discreet_ about it, no."

Regina agrees with a wrinkle of her nose.

"But, I mean, the way they are with each other now is _exactly_ the same as it was ten years ago. I understand- in theory- the kind of Groundhog Day thing you have going on here with no one aging and being stuck in limbo and everything, and I guess it makes sense in a way that relationships wouldn't progress, but then you and Graham... Was that something that happened straight away? Or..."

"...I'd had relations with him in the past after I sent him to destroy your mother."

" _Very_ romantic."

"Hardly; I was furious with him. Nor was he especially _willing_ and accepting of my advances. I saw something I wanted and took it."

"That sounds... Sketchy."

"Yes, I suppose to one not accustomed to the ways of the throne, it would do. We had a past, Graham and I, and when I began to tire of the monotony of this place, I went looking for a method of release. It was infuriating at first, as the idiot was bound by the ways of the curse and seemed perpetually perplexed on each new occasion that the offer was put out there. As I am in possession of his heart, this was hardly a problem, rather a small nuisance."

"You have his _heart_?"

"You read the story, no?"

"I did, but I didn't think you'd _still_ have it!"

"... Did you never wonder what happened that day when he pulled you over on your way out of town?"

"Of _course_ I did! That was _you?_!"

"Of course. I couldn't very well let you _leave_."

"Regina, that's-"

"-sly, I know."

"I can think of several _other_ words for it."

The blonde growls, and the Mayor shakes her head as she explains gently

"I didn't do it out of anything other than care, Emma. You suggested at the time that my problem with the matter was that you were going with Ruby, and you were correct, but not for any reason you might have fathomed. I had no way of knowing what might happen if Miss Lucas crossed the town line with you; people under the curse do not leave Storybrooke. The closest anyone had come- by accident, mind you- had resulted in a terrible car crash from which the stupid fool was lucky to be pulled out _alive_. I couldn't risk Ruby being in the car with you and it all ending the same way, or _worse;_ that the curse might no longer affect her should she leave town. I wasn't about to risk you driving through the woods with what you would call a fairytale character!"

"I thought Red was one of the good guys?"

Emma asks, slightly dazed by the obscurity of their current conversation.

"She's a _werewolf_!"

Regina snaps, before looking around and lowering her voice. She had purposely chosen a booth away from other patrons and is certain their conversation isn't being overheard, but she is aware that it might start drawing curious attention if she continues to react so animatedly towards the only stranger the town has ever known. Continuing on in a lower tone, she scolds

"She's _dangerous_ , Emma. _Yes_ , she was your mother's friend, and yes, she probably _is_ hopelessly sweet and well-meaning given the company she kept, but that's hardly the _issue_ here. The issue lies in the thought of you suddenly finding yourself in the presence of a very confused young woman who would have seemed entirely _insane_ to you. Not _one_ feasible scenario stemming from that situation seemed like it would end well, so I nipped it in the bud."

"Anyone _else's_ heart you were using to lie to me?"

Emma mutters uncomfortably, and the darker woman sighs but holds any rebuttal at bay as she appreciates the unpleasant truth behind what really _had_ been a well-meaning deed must speak strongly of violation to the blonde.

"No. Just that one time... Only that one time to _protect_ you."

The blonde pulls a face at this and lowers her head into her hand; massaging her temples with her eyes shut as though suffering a headache. When she finally looks up again, she silently requests they move on lest unwelcome truths start an argument.

"Ok, so, you fucked Graham because you weren't tethered by the same rules, but everyone else is kind of stuck acting how they did before you cast the curse?"

"More or less... And don't use that word."

"...Regina, that was annoying when I was eighteen. I'm an adult; I don't need to mind my manners for teacher."

"You should mind your manners because it's _polite_ , dear, and my issue in this instance is more due to context than semantics."

"What, you want me to say 'made love' instead?"

"Absolutely not. I'd rather we not speak of this at _all_ , but if you must, then we had sex. That's what it was; _all_ it was."

The brunette huffs as Emma hides a small smirk. She is aware that unlike herself, the blonde seems a little less possessive when it comes to the past, and this fact irks her no end, as she appreciates it is probably the more healthy way of approaching their complex scenario.

"Ok, you had _sex_. Is 'making love' saved just for me?"

Emma mocks sarcastically, and Regina raises a brow as she bites the bait with her own sly smile and murmurs conspiringly

"Certainly. Same goes for fucking."

Grinning victoriously as the younger woman blushes and bites her lip, she accepts this appealing display of defeat and continues pleasantly

"You must have _more_ questions for me then the relationship status of two fools that never mentally excaped their teenage years."

"I do... It's just getting one to come to the forefront. It's a mess in my head right now."

Emma admits, and Regina nods as she can believe this and then some.

"Well... How about we try a different approach? I will answer anything that comes to mind, but as for how you might begin in your journey to break the curse- to believe fully in it- there is someone that might know a little more about that than I do."

"The guy that runs the pawnshop..."

"Mr Gold. I would ordinarily not be keen to get him involved in _any_ of my affairs, but he knows what he knows so it seems pointless refusing to accept the fact. I can't help but feel that it might also help you come to terms with things if someone other than Henry and myself talks to you about what's in the book. I don't trust the man at all, but I suppose asking is free. If it turns out that the answer is not, we will leave. I can offer you empathy and I can offer you my help, but perhaps both are worthless without a strategy, and that unfortunately is Rumple's expertise... Of course, if you are uncomfortable with the idea, then we will figure something else out."

"No, it's ok. As you said, it doesn't hurt to ask. I've spent most of my career dealing with creeps, and sometimes it takes a warped mind to see what a sane one keeps missing."

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it."

"That said, I'm assuming a woman claiming she's a cruel dictator from another world is _sane_."

"... Emma, I understand it's a lot, but I thought you were beginning to _see_... How _else_ do you explain-"

"-I am. I _am_ beginning to see... That's what's unnerving."

"I sympathise... But I assure you that I am just as sane as you are."

"That's hardly comforting."

The blonde muses, and Regina holds her gaze for a heavy moment as she recalls several occasions when she's found Emma hard to gage in the past; this in itself not that strange, but the snippets of thoughts and ideas she'd gleaned in those moments certainly _had_ been. Pushing these thoughts aside, she keeps her voice casual when she speaks again

"We'll drop by Gold's shop later this afternoon, he is often in better spirits after lunch."

"Ok, what do we do until then?"

"Well, dear, I have some work I need to be getting on with, and unlike our previous charade, I don't require your secretarial assistance. I should only be an hour or two at the most, I trust you can keep yourself occupied for that long?"

"Of course."

"Good. Then perhaps after we suffer Gold's company you might think again on my words from this morning."

She allows a hint of a smirk as she speaks, and hopes Emma will catch on to her meaning, but the younger woman currently gives very little away as she merely smiles pleasantly and plays her spoon through her coffee. Regina tells herself not to be irked at this lack of acknowledgment, and that perhaps this isn't the time for salacious proposals. A shame though, as despite the weight of their breakfast conversation, the thought of repaying Emma's favour from this morning remains firmly at the back of her mind. It is an odd yet delectable feeling knowing that she can now more or less satisfy her needs whenever the moment is appropriate- like finding water after trekking the desert for ten years- and while she accepts that her urges are of an intensity that is rather juvinile in the face of this recent treat, they have so far only increased when the two of them are together. She'd expected more teasing from the blonde about her generous offer earlier, but for once the younger woman seems intent on behaving herself.

"Why don't you call me when you're done with work?"

Emma suggests simply, and the brunette sighs as she supposes there will be plenty of time for pushing the younger woman to play her game this evening, and smiles.

"A little desperate, dear?"

She goads teasingly, and green eyes meet hers cooly as the blonde keeps her tone light and casual.

"More just hoping you might offer me lunch."

"I see."

Regina rolls her eyes, and the younger woman grins impishly and watches as the Mayor gathers her things and pushes herself from the booth.

"So predictable."

The brunette sighs in parting, and Emma laughs as she downs the cold dregs of her coffee before taking her cup up to the counter and beckoning Ruby over.

"Good breakfast?"

The waitress asks, her tone cryptic as she studies the blonde shrewdly; trying to figure out just why and how in the hell Emma seems to have genuinely won the Mayor's favour.

"More or less."

The blonde replies just as cryptically, before leaning in a little closer to stop her words being overheard by the Pharmacist that sits up at the counter wiping his nose on an old rag.

"I have a question for you, and it might seem kind of strange."

"Go for it."

"Which buildings around here might have an elevator?"


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I had meant to do a fair rotation of my working fics, but this was playing on my mind with the way the last chapter finished, and the elevator scene has been waiting to be written since Enemies, so I folded! Enjoy :) Reviews would be awesome!

Looking up from her work as Johanna comes into the drawing room, Regina smiles.

"Oh, you're here, dearest."

The old maid states in surprise, and the Mayor nods as she searches her top drawer for a hole punch. She hasn't really given it a whole lot of thought, but Johanna's curiosity opens her eyes to the fact that she has fallen into old habits without even realising it. When Emma had been in town before, she'd worked almost solely from home; something she had done more due to Henry's age than anything to do with the girl herself. Nowadays, she tends to favor her public office as she finds it a preferable place to receive company and run meetings rather than tarnish the privacy of her own home, but it would seem that with the blonde's return, she has resumed old habits.

_Well, it would be rather more dangerous to bend her over the desk in the municipal building..._

"Am I interrupting?"

Johanna frowns, noting the way dark eyes flicker as the brunette wets her bottom lip, and Regina looks up at her swiftly and shakes her head.

"No, dear. My mind was just wandering a little."

"That's a charge I find I'm often guilty of myself."

The maid grins, before asking if the Mayor would rather she come back later to clean the room.

"No need, I'm almost done. You can start over by the hearth."

Johanna nods agreeably and shuffles over with a rag and duster in her hand. Kneeling with an audible sigh and crack of her joints, she shoots the brunette a sheepish look as the latter grimaces with commiseration.

_It's only going to get worse now that age has come for us in this town once and for all, dear._

"Are you going to stay in for lunch? Would you like me to prepare the salmon in the fridge?"

The maid asks as she gets to work, and Regina shakes her head as she looks back down at the last of the documents requiring her approval.

"No thank you, dear, I'm going out."

"With the girl?"

Johanna asks, and the brunette looks up sharply as the term brings back a whirlwind of memories.

"She's not a girl."

She corrects casually, well aware that she had said those words several times in the past, but that they have never been more apt than now.

_No, certainly not a girl anymore._

"Emma."

Johanna elaborates dutifully, and the darker woman nods and keeps her gaze carefully trained on the pen in her hand as the maid remarks

"That's nice. You two seem to get on well."

"Yes, I suppose."

The Mayor agrees noncommittally, risking a glance up and spying the small frown that graces the older woman's weathered brow. She supposes that of anyone, Johanna had been most aware of how involved her relationship with Emma had truly been, and while she is certain that those memories are safely guarded by the curse, their existence seems to have crossed the maid's mind for a moment, like a ghost of the past that sometimes remains just beyond one's grasp when encountering a certain song or scent.

"Will Henry be straight home from school today, or does he have chess after?"

"No, he should be done at the usual time."

Regina replies, before stacking up her finished papers and placing them neatly inside a folder. Reaching for her phone, she texts Emma to let her know that she's done with work, and raises a brow as the blonde replies almost immediately.

_Emma S (New phone):_

_Great. I'm at the hospital. Meet me here._

Frowning, the brunette replies hastily with a sense of disquiet.

_Why? What's wrong?!_

"Everything alright?"

Johanna asks from the corner, taking in the Mayor's troubled expression.

"I don't know, I-"

_Emma S (New phone):_

_Nothing. Why would there be?_

Sighing with exasperation, Regina pushes herself from her desk and stalks for the door, grumbling over her shoulder

"I'll see you later or tomorrow if you're gone before I get back. I best go and see what Miss Swan has gotten herself into now."

The maid nods, musing curiously that while the Mayor sounds rather perturbed, there is a note of bemusement in her tone that seems out of character.

_Does it, though? Isn't it how she often spoke to and of the girl in the end?_

Frowning as she has no idea what to make of such thoughts, Johanna goes back to scrubbing the marble of the fireplace; resolving that it _does_ seem rather odd. Regina is not one who tolerates annoyance, and her reaction rarely wavers from infuriated or entirely unmoved.

* * *

When she pulls up outside the hospital, Regina checks her phone again, but she's received no further messages to enlighten her on what the hell is going on. While pulling out of her driveway and speeding into town her mind had been filled with a number of horrific images and reasons the blonde might be summoning her to the hospital, but as she'd begun to near the hulking building itself she'd slowly gotten a hold of herself and realised that the likelihood of anything too terrible having befallen Emma is slim. She doubts that if anything unfortunate _had_ happened, that the younger woman would be so quick to ask her to play a part of it, similarly she muses that if the blonde were the cause of someone else's pain, she'd maybe not text in order to boast. These realisations had led her down a different path to ponder, and she sighs now as she steps from the Benz and locks the doors as it occurs to her that following their discussion this morning, Emma might have come looking for answers in the form of her father. She tells herself that this is hardly the worst case scenario given she'd only moments ago been picturing the blonde in a variety of dire states, but the idea of being questioned about how she's dealt with Charming leaves her rather unenthused.

_Where are you?_

She texts as she stalks up the broad path that leads to a set of glass double doors, but when she looks up she realises she needn't have bothered as Emma stands lent against the wall with her arms crossed tightly to ward off the cold.

"You messaged me."

The blonde greets her needlessly, and the Mayor rolls her eyes as she follows the younger woman into the warmth inside and replies

"I'm aware of this."

"Yes, I suppose you would be."

Emma nods, and Regina finds herself wondering as she has on several previous occasions if the blonde is playing with her, or if she really _is_ as contrary as she's putting across. She would guess the former, and she glowers at the younger woman accordingly.

"Where are we going?"

She asks, but Emma merely leads her through the almost deserted waiting room and over to the elevators.

"Up."

The blonde replies vaguely, and the brunette frowns as she watches the younger woman press the button for the third floor, and sighs.

_Charming's floor... Well... I suppose it's only fair that we do this if she thinks it might help._

Following Emma into the elevator, she stands beside her awkwardly as she wonders if she should say something or wait for the blonde to broach the matter. As it is, the younger woman simply stares ahead at their misted reflections in the brushed steel of the doors, her expression strangely serene.

"What are we-"

But Regina trails off as the blonde reaches out suddenly and slams her palm against the emergency stop button, bringing them to a shuddering halt. The brunette gasps as she stumbles, while Emma tenses for a moment before relaxing and offering her companion a gleeful smile.

"That's good! It occurred to me just as I was pushing it that an alarm might go off or something, but this thing's _ancient_! Look, you have to call the operator for help... Who even is that?"

"What are you _doing_?"

Regina demands incredulously, before her eyes widen with realisation as the blonde offers her a pointed look.

"Miss Swan, this is a _hospital_!"

She hisses, but she is unable to stop her breath catching in her throat as the younger woman takes a step towards her; backing her into the corner.

"Yeah, I know. I was thinking about that too, but in the time I've been down there, only one person's come in, and it was for a sore thumb... Besides, they always say you should use the stairs in emergencies."

"In the case of a _fire_ , you idiot!"

"If you want me to start it up again, I can..."

Emma challenges, and the brunette holds her gaze intently, before reaching for the lapels of the blonde's jacket and pulling soft lips roughly to her own.

"There's no camera in here either, I checked, it-"

"-Shut up."

Regina demands hoarsely, and she bites the younger woman's lip in reprimand as the latter pushes her up against the wall. Allowing the blonde to retaliate with a sly hand slipping up into her shirt, she relishes the lingering outside chill from wicked fingers, before once more using red leather to steer Emma where she wants her. This time, she forces a switch of places; shoving the blonde up against brushed steel and murmuring against parted lips

"I asked you what you wanted to do, and it's _your_ turn."

A notable shiver at this, but the younger woman answers breathlessly

"I'm not sure you _get_ just how hot it is watching you lose it."

"I can well imagine."

The darker woman replies airily, and she laughs along with the blonde; the sound husky with sin.

"You asked me what I wanted to do..."

Emma points out, sliding her palm firmly down the brunette's stomach and dipping into the waistband of her skirt with a little difficulty. Regarding her heatedly, Regina swallows as cool fingers have warmed up considerably, and now slip into her underwear.

"I did, but it's hard letting you get your way when it clashes with what I want."

The brunette growls with a hitch to her voice, and the younger woman laughs lightly as she calls the darker woman out

" _Really_?"

She challenges; the Mayor doing absolutely nothing to stop her or call an end to her teasing.

"You're making a compelling argument."

Regina hisses through gritted teeth; the sheer cheek the blonde has always been so adept at teasing her with only serving to excite her more.

"I'm good at that."

Emma grins, and the darker woman closes her eyes; supposing that if the girl wants to watch her go over, she can't find a great deal of fault in that. It only fuels her ecstasy knowing her release is a show, and she supposes in the end, she's the one getting the prize in more ways than one. Wrapping her arms tightly around the blonde's shoulders, she clings onto her with her face buried into soft curls as her body begins to shake and move at the mercy of her pleasure. Unlike this morning, they don't suffer the noise restrictions posed by Henry being nearby, and she lets her bliss be known as she moans agreeably against the younger woman's jaw; chafing soft skin with her teeth entirely on purpose.

"Keep going."

She warns throatily as she leans back a little to regard the blonde with hooded eyes, and Emma complies readily, her teeth nipped over her bottom lip. Eyes flickering from cool green to the silver that plays their backdrop, Regina glances around at their mirrored copies moving salaciously against each other and clenches her jaw as she feels herself tipping over the edge. Releasing her tight grip on slim shoulders, she slams her palms against cool steel either side of the younger woman and bows her head as she rides out her pleasure for as long as she can bear.

"Stop... _Stop_ , now!"

She orders finally, her legs shaking and her voice unsteady, and the blonde obeys; slipping her hand carefully free from the tight confines of the Mayor's now rather creased skirt.

"Yeah, that was more or less what I wanted."

Emma laughs; breathless herself as she studies the brunette with an open expression of awe.

"You're going to get a lot more than _that_."

Regina warns, though she takes a moment longer before making her move, simply staring the blonde down as she remains with her hands planted either side of her head. She waits for a sarcastic remark in response, but Emma simply smiles at her; a surprisingly sweet smile given the circumstances, and the darker woman lunges forward to taste it aggressively.

"Go on, then."

The blonde whispers against full lips, and the Mayor nips at soft velvet dominantly, before lowering her attention to rough denim and working open tight jeans. She pushes them down with a couple of brisk movements until they pool at the younger woman's calves. Tugging down scant black cotton- with a sly smirk of goading- she leans back in to brush at parted lips softly this time as her fingers dip lazily between slender thighs to examine the effects of her recent display. Finding that she is more than satisfied with the result, she smiles wickedly and grinds her palm against sensitive flesh once in warning.

"Gladly."

She purrs, watching eagerly as pale hands reach out blindly to grip at the metal bar that runs the circumference of the elevator. Pushing the younger woman back so that she's confined to the corner, Regina offers a final, promising smirk before lowering herself onto her knees. She has thought before on how this is not an act she'd have ever thought she'd comply to- let alone _enjoy-_ but that had been back when they were still discovering each other, and now she knows full well that getting on her knees for the blonde in no way means submitting to her. Still, Emma raises a brow in surprise as she looks down with blown pupils, and her breathing is ragged and audible as she waits in anticipation.

Digging her nails into sharp hips cruelly, Regina's intent is validated as the hissed expletive that escapes above her is one dripping only with pleasure. Taking heed of the blonde's husky curse, she pushes the younger woman firmly into the wall as she tastes her hungrily. She works slowly at first, simply relishing the act, but her thoughts return hazily to her thoughts this morning when she'd looked at the girl jealously- possessively- as the topic of fooling around in an elevator had come up. Before she'd known it would be new to each of them. Her mind flickers once more with images of the blonde thrashing and begging against brushed steel, and she looks up from beneath hooded lashes to drink in the real thing. Emma remains with her hands fisted tightly over the metal bar in order to keep herself up and at a decidedly delicious angle, with her eyes squeezed shut and her cheeks beginning to flush a paler version of the hue of her jacket. The Mayor removes one hand from the peak of the blonde's hip and slips her fingers slickly to join her tongue. Glancing up again, she spies a flicker of shadow play across the younger woman's jaw, and she knows Emma has her teeth clenched. She briefly considers requesting the blonde enjoy herself a little more vocally, but she knows that if she says anything it's likely to backfire and have Emma bite back her pleasure completely. Instead, she roughens her approach, and the blonde lets out a choked sound that the brunette savours with a small smile before striving for another.

"Fuck..."

Emma groans between gritted teeth, and the darker woman rewards her with a pointed swipe of her tongue. Banging her head back against the wall, the blonde begins to move as she pants quiet encouragement that the Mayor heeds eagerly. Feeling the younger woman start to jerk at her touch, Regina moves her fingers roughly and watches- mesmerised- as the blonde throws her head back a final time with a yelp. She shivers violently and for a moment the brunette thinks that she's crying and she licks the younger woman's excitement from her lips as she watches on curiously. Finally, Emma looks back down at her, and she realises that the blonde is laughing, not crying, and she joins in huskily; feeling deliciously sinful as she pushes herself to her feet and steps back to study the younger woman still wedged in the corner with her underwear between her knees.

"So, was it everything you were hoping for?"

She asks coyly, and Emma smirks as she pulls her jeans back up.

"It's one thing I can cross of the list, yeah."

The blonde grins; her tone heavy with the suggestion of more to be explored. Regina eyes her back with dark amusement, drinking in flushed cheeks and hellishly mussed hair.

"You must provide me a copy of this 'list', I'd be curious to give it a read."

"Your turn next."

The younger woman shakes her head, and the Mayor chuckles evilly before gesturing to the elevator's controls.

"We best start this up again lest anybody actually need to use it."

"I guess so."

Emma agrees, stalking over and once more hitting the emergency button to resume their ascent.

"Why the third floor?"

Regina asks with belated discomfort, and the younger woman shrugs and informs her casually

"I just hit a button at random."

"I see."

The brunette smiles with a sigh of relief, which dies on her lips when the doors finally open up as they reach their floor.

"Oh."

"Oh."

"Hello..."

"Hi."

An awkward silence settles between the three of them as Mary Margaret looks from Emma to Regina curiously. Despite knowing that the two have been working together, it still catches her off guard to encounter the brunette in the company of another that isn't cowering under her glower. She supposes she must have caught the others rather unaware as she takes in bright eyes and the rather flustered vibe shared between them. Wondering if she's perhaps inadvertently interrupted a dispute or heated debate, she smiles sheepishly and stands aside so as to let the others out of the elevator. Her brow furrows when neither makes a move.

"Wrong floor."

Emma informs her eventually in a rather disjointed tone, and the Mayor glances over at her distractedly before agreeing woodenly.

"Yes. We were aiming for the reception. It would appear I was foolish allowing Miss Swan my confidence to manage the controls."

Forcing a smile that's feels like it's way too many teeth, the blonde chips in

"Whoops."

And she throws Regina a pointed look as the latter studies her curiously.

"Oh. It's an easy enough mistake! I'm going down also, can I join you?"

Mary Margaret appeases with a hint of confusion she fails to hide. Something that only grows as neither woman moves immediately to allow her in. Finally, Emma steps back clumsily and offers her a grin.

"Sorry; daydreaming."

She apologises awkwardly, and Regina sniffs disdainfully as she presses the correct button; trapping the three of them in a bubble of silent discomfort that seems to last a lot longer than the thirty seconds it does.

When they finally reach the first floor, Mary Margaret excuses herself swiftly as she expresses the need to go and find Dr Whale to discuss her volunteer hours. Emma nods as Regina ignores her entirely, before they each head towards the main doors at a bizarrely brisk pace. By the time she reaches her Benz, she's all but jogging, and the brunette lets out a low sigh as she slips behind the wheel and slams the door shut behind her. She glances to her right as Emma falls into the passenger seat and shakes her head. The blonde sits with her knees drawn up into her chest with her face pressed against rough denim as she groans loudly, before twisting around and thumping the Mayor none too gently in the arm. Eyes wide with shock at the callous nerve of this act, Regina opens her mouth to give the younger woman a piece of her mind, but no words come out. Instead, her eyes find Emma's- just as wide and just as dumbstruck- and when the blonde finally starts laughing, she simply joins in.

"Oh god."

Emma shudders, kneading at her temples, and the despair in her tone only serves to make the brunette laugh harder.

"Oh dear."

Regina agrees breathlessly, before striving to pull herself together and adopting a more serious tone; still slightly croaky in the aftermath of her horror.

"Well... I suppose now's a good a time as any to suggest we go and pay Gold a visit."

She smiles tightly as her lashes glitter with hysterical mirth, and the blonde lets out a noise somewhere between a sob and a hiccup as she nods her agreement.

"Yeah. Things can only look up from here."

"Indeed."

"And it wasn't all bad."

"No, it was all decidedly enjoyable until your mother showed up."

Another groan at this and when the younger woman turns in her seat the Mayor barks warningly

"Don't even _think_ about it!"

Catching Emma's fist easily in her hand, she pushes it back firmly and fixes the blonde with a stern expression that does little to mask her amusement.

"...Just drive."

The younger woman sighs, turning back to face the front and shaking her head with a slightly dazed expression.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry this has been a long time in coming. I like writing this fic, but it is definitely becoming the most complicated/ difficult to write so sometimes it takes a little while for me to get to it and I write the others in between. Hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading. Comments would be hugely appreciated and really make my day :)

Pulling up outside Gold's store, Regina hesitates for a moment as the Benz's engine idles quietly. Tracing the streering wheel with her finger, she sighs before switching off the ignition. With this, the dull hum of hot air passing through the vents falls silent, and the dry crackle of leather as the blonde moves seems strangely magnified in her mind. Turning in her seat to face Emma, she adopts a tight smile; the heady mirth they'd shared outside the hospital now a distant memory.

"Alright?"

The younger woman asks, looking politely curious, and the brunette nods before sighing and coming clean.

"Yes, I'm fine. It was my suggestion we go see Gold, and I stand by that, but it doesn't diminish the fact that I don't feel good about this. I learned long ago that he is a man that's best to avoid, particularly in the case of matters of the heart. If anyone might be able to shed some light on how we go about what must be done, it will be Rumple, but I never for a second would have believed I would be so reckless as to serve you up to him. I'm wondering now if I should go in alone... I don't want this to be a mistake, Emma. I don't want to put you right where he wants you."

"Why would he want me?"

"I don't know, but that does little to soothe my fears. He made you who you are, it was his will that created the Saviour, and I have never been given a straight answer when I've asked him why he did so."

"Maybe he'll tell _me_."

Emma muses quietly, and Regina considers this pensively before admitting that the thought has never occured to her.

"If he does, perhaps it will be helpful, but you need to understand something, Emma. Gold works by making deals; nothing is free, even if he says it is. You must be careful what you tell him, and under no circumstances are you to agree to anything he might ask of you- no, don't give me that look; that truly _is_ an order not a suggestion. If he asks you for anything, we can discuss it between us, but I need your word that you'll play by my rules. I am only telling you this to protect you. I trust that you will respect the fact that I have my reasons."

She falls silent with an air of finality, her expression stern and demanding as she stares the blonde down.

"...You're scared of him, aren't you?"

The younger woman asks tentatively, recalling the curious interactions she'd witnessed between Gold and the Mayor years ago. They make more sense now when corresponding to the words in the book, and she finds herself feeling increasingly uneasy.

"In short... Yes. He was my mentor, but there were times when my power- my magic- superseded his own. My purpose was always clear at the time however; I wanted revenge. Rumplestiltskin never professed any linear reason for behaving as he did or making the requests he made. There is a huge amount of _power_ that lies in secrecy. Back then, I was wary of him, but looked to him as an ally as well as a threat. Since meeting you and becoming aware of his interest in you the last time you were here... I am afraid of him."

Regina admits gravely, and the blonde nibbles her lip uncomfortably as the words she'd like to use to scoff at this rather dramatic answer die on her tongue. She recalls her own conversations with the slippery little man back when she'd been oblivious to the madness shrouding the town. He had asked her about her stint in jail- had goaded her over it- all the while speaking partially in riddles. At the time she had simply found him creepy, but she remembers too the way that the Mayor had seemed to bristle whenever facing the pawnbroker or discussing him. Twenty-eight years of hard, unwavering logic tell her that there is no _way_ Gold is the embodiment of some dark force; some immortal madman with a dagger...

_No way!_

And yet, as she complies with Regina's small nod and request that she exit the car, she can't help but admit that beneath that stubborn, iron-clad certainty exists a growing pool of doubt.

"This way."

The brunette instructs, not that directions are neccesary. Emma almost tells her so, before opting for silence. The windows of the store are once again overflowing with curios and artefacts, but she has no trouble conjuring up the image of white sheets behind murky glass; showcasing just the one doomed item to attract passers by.

"Emma?"

Regina frowns, catching movement from her left as the younger woman shivers visibly. The blonde turns to her and smiles a smile that shows just a few too many teeth.

"I'm okay."

Emma assures automatically, as she strives to push all memories of the crop she'd bought here from her mind, along with the results of that unfortunate purchase. Shrugging helplessly as the Mayor continues to study her for a moment longer, she breathes a sigh of relief as the brunette finally turns around and stalks for the door; her own brow furrowed as she recalls the darkness in Regina's eyes as she'd wielded the crop. Her weapon.

Back when she'd lured out the Queen.

Swallowing, she follows Regina into the dark gloom of Gold's store, her eyes flickering from one oddity to the next as her nostrils flare with the curiously dry scent of old books and cedar.

"Gold?"

The Mayor calls out as the door swings shut behind the blonde, once more triggering the little bell heralding their presence. For a moment, the women believe they might be alone, but then the sure pad of footsteps sounds from behind a heavy velvet curtain, before the man in question appears dressed in a well tailored suit.

"Madame Mayor... Miss Swan."

He greets, having wondered when Regina might seek him out again. He'd had a feeling it would be soon, but for her to come in with the Saviour in tow is something he hadn't bargained on. The younger woman stands behind the Mayor looking rather uncertain but by no means shy. She meets his steely gaze as he stares her down, and reciprocates his slow smile with a courteous twitch of her lips.

Polite, but all business.

"What can I do for you?"

Gold asks, and some of his curiosity is genuine as he is intrigued to uncover the current state of play. He beckons them up to the counter and watches on curiously as the blonde's attention lingers on the delicate crystal mobile hung in the window before she stands beside Regina and settles cool green back onto him.

"We've come to ask for your help with something... It concerns the curse."

The brunette divulges, and the pawnbroker forbids his expression from showing his surprise at her openness. Casting a surreptitious glance at Emma, he watches her face carefully to gage her reaction, but she seems neither confused nor agitated. She simply waits.

_It seems two can play at this game._

"I see."

He nods, looking back to his long ago student and offering her a dry smile.

"What of it?"

"Emma's read Henry's book. We have discussed the matters within to some extent, but mostly I have covered the topic of my past and of hers as she has a right to know why all of this is happening."

"... I agree... Tell me, Miss Swan, does _knowing_ lessen the sting at all?"

His voice is silky, and Regina flashes her teeth; nothing genial this time, only warning. Beside her, the younger woman _does_ allow a small smile, her tone icy as she answers him curtly

"I'm not _sure_ what it is that I know just yet, only what I have been told. Your question would imply that everything I have supposedly found out should be painful to me. Perhaps some of it is- if it's true- but having no answers, whether they're insane or not, isn't the most wonderful feeling either."

"Curious that you should word it in such a way; accentuating the fact that you're unsure whether Regina tells the truth. There was once a time when you refused to entertain pure _logic_ because it suggested she had betrayed you."

"When?"

The Mayor snaps, glaring at the little man accusingly as she feels a knot of disquiet form in her stomach.

"The young princess here threatened me bodily _harm_ when I suggested that the only way I would have heard about her incarceration was from yourself. It was the _obvious_ answer, yet she preferred to stay stubbornly blind. Interesting then, that she would now _doubt_ you when you need her to cooperate."

Dark eyes narrow as the brunette seethes, but it is Emma that bites back angrily

"She doesn't _need_ me to _cooperate_ , she's doing this for _me_ , not for herself."

"Such certainty, such foolishness."

"No. It's _not_. And if the book's true, then you _know_ that. There's no _benefit_ to the Evil Queen in the Saviour succeeding at her task, I'd imagine it's the opposite! And she _didn't_ betray me. Yes, the situation at the time pointed to her having done so, and maybe I was naive, but Regina never _did_ tell you that I was incarcerated, because you _knew_. You knew that and plenty more about me, but at the time I had no reason to imagine that you did. Regina would never have told you something like that at the time that you claimed she did. I trusted her then and I trust her now. Completely... There is a difference between trust and belief. And there is a whole _world_ of difference between trust and believing in magic, a curse, fairytale characters and a prophecy."

"Then why are you here, if the book lies?"

"I never _said_ it lied. In the world outside Storybrooke there are millions of people that believe in gods whose stories are laid out on the page. Sure, some of them sound sketchier than others, but on the whole, I wouldn't call someone preaching from one of those books a _liar_. That doesn't mean I believe in their god or any other... I would _like_ to. It seems like it would be comforting to have faith and the community that comes with it. In the same vein, I would _like_ to believe what it says in Henry's book. The book says I have a family and a purpose and explains why things went the way they did the last time I was here. It gives reasons that I can in some ways accept; that I can live with. Sure, it also covers a whole bunch of dark and twisted crap that doesn't sit well with me if the good is true, but if you've ever read a bible, then you'll know it's not all bread, fish and walking on water. There's people who pray for the second coming, for their _Saviour_ , and yet know that if their belief is justified, they're gonna have to deal with the fact they've eaten a couple of cheeseburgers over the years despite it being forbidden according to the text in Exodus, for which they should- apparently- suffer. They _pray_ because they _believe_ , despite knowing that bad will come with the good.

I've never done much of either."

"Then I don't see what I could do to help you."

Gold replies, although his mind is already ticking with ways he might be able to do just that. He is impressed with her. As a young adult, she had been angry and closed off towards him. He'd supposed she must have _something_ hidden beneath her shell or the Queen would have tired of her after sating any more carnal interests, but they had rarely spoken to one another, and the brief glimpses of his creation he _had_ managed to snatch had been curt and altogether rather teenaged. Now, he is fascinated to hear her voice- her mind- as she stands before him as he had once prophesied. As it was intended.

"Think harder."

Regina growls, not willing to accept that she has reached yet another dead end. Still, what Emma has said has hit home with her. She had wondered how it could be that she'd taken the blonde down to her vault- that the younger woman had _visibly_ reacted to nearing the room bearing her dark trophies beating their doomed melody- and yet still refused to accept what was being suggested to her. She understands now that it it is the same reason that Emma has read the stories of the terrible things done by the Queen- how she had actually wished to beckon her out to _play_ \- and not reacted with greater appall.

 _She's allowing me to tell her what I deem fit. She's prepared to read what I give her. She's willing to ask for explanations and to think them through and to gain some understanding on everything she's processed thus far, just as a student will read a textbook and wish to know more and accept the words on the page as reason and truth. The author has no_ reason _to lie. Yet pictures and words, diagrams and charts, are not the same thing as seeing something in the flesh. One could read an essay explaining the exact workings of a lightbulb and accept them for truth. They could listen to a lecture on the same subject and feel better informed. But unless one actually witnesses the bulb illuminating for themselves, they'll never know for sure. For some, like Henry, the very_ meaning _of belief is to hold onto something and accept it and need no proof because they know in their heart that something is true._

_Emma works with her head not her heart, because going with your heart is how you get hurt._

_She needs to see._

_Most believe in something and search for proof. Emma needs proof in order to start believing._

Yes, she is sure of it, but while she understands the importance of working to the blonde's way of thinking, she feels like she's back at square one again. She and Henry had both searched for proof- had believed the _book_ to be proof- and they have found nothing.

"There must be _something_ in this shop that can help show that the stories are real."

She appeals, her gaze flickering to the crystal mobile- Emma's mobile- before returning to dark coals. Gold smiles- not unkindly- and points to the tiny glass beasts with a sigh.

"I believe Miss Swan clocked that stunning piece when she came in, didn't you, dearie?"

"The mobile? Yeah, I mean, I looked at it. Why?"

The blonde frowns, and the little man offers Regina a weighted look as though this response proves his point.

"I believe Madame Mayor had her hopes up just now, that's all. The unicorns are crystal but the beads are glass; the crystal comes from the diamond mines while the glass is dragon blown. Very rare. Go ahead and take a closer look."

"Uh... I mean telling me the glass has been made by dragons isn't _really_ going to convince me just so you know. And I wouldn't know 'mine' crystal over any other types of crystal if my life depended on it."

Emma points out with a slightly apologetic look over her shoulder at the brunette, before touching one of the delicate unicorns gingerly. Gold chuckles in response- also shooting Regina a commiserating glance- and shakes his head.

"Oh, I wouldn't have thought the mention of dragons would be the place to start. No, I should think Regina spared some hope that you might _recognise_ it... That mobile hung over your crib in your parent's castle. I have keepsakes from that past life belonging to every one of the lost souls here. That's yours. I believe you possess the other; the blanket."

"... What blanket?"

The blonde whispers, and she's no longer touching the mobile but backing woodenly away from it.

"The baby blanket, the one Granny made for you as a gift to your mother. The one with the purple embroidery."

Gold replies, and Emma turns around so fast that her hair tumbles over her shoulder; her eyes glittering and wet.

"How... I... Did _you_?"

She asks with a waver to her voice as she turns her attention to Regina, and the brunette shakes her head, her expression solemn.

"No. I didn't tell him. Why would I? I didn't tell him about the blanket any more than I discussed your being incarcerated with him. I've seen the blanket a couple of times in this world, but I _know_ it from back _there_... There's a unicorn missing on the mobile, did you notice? That was my doing. That was my doing as the Queen."

"I... I don't know what to do with that information."

Emma croaks eventually, and Gold nods with genuine sympathy and laments

"It was never going to be easy. The Dark Curse is one of the most powerful that has ever been fortold, and for you to break it was never going to just happen overnight. I saw the two of you going to war, it is the way it was supposed to be, and out of the chaos and fighting, the truth would finally come out... In a way, this turn of events is all rather unfortunate; perhaps it would have been easier to believe Regina to be the Evil Queen if you had considered her an enemy. Given how close the two of you are, I would guess another approach is going to have to be taken."

The little man sighs, and the blonde frowns as she chances a glance at the Mayor; unsure how to react to Gold's apparent knowledge of their relationship.

 _Or at least_ part _of it!_

The brunette offers her a small shrug that suggests she isn't in favour of this curious fact, but it is out of their hands. Gold himself pretends to ignore all of this, supposing that itll do him no good to make the others uncomfortable at this time. He wants to help Emma do what must be done for his own reasons, and as the he watches the Mayor's shoulders slump defeatedly inside the fine tailoring of her jacket, he limps towards a large armoire that stands beside an old grandfather's clock. Producing a key from his pocket, he opens the rich walnut doors and bends into the shadows; keeping his actions hidden from his guests.

Finally, he emerges with a slender glass vial, the inscription down the side blurred over the years and illegible.

"Take this. Regina told me about how she wiped your memories using a potion made of ingredients once holding magical properties, and I see no reason why that same ploy might not work now."

"What is it?"

Emma asks, before the Mayor interrupts her and asks much more seriously

"What do you _want_ for it?"

The stern distrust in her voice causes the pawnbroker to giggle, and he throws a smile at the blonde as though sharing his humor. Emma simply frowns back at him before looking to Regina and Gold sighs once more.

"Nothing. I've told you before that my interests lie in Miss Swan breaking the curse. That hasn't changed. Once she's done what she was made to do, then we may talk business, but for now, I am simply trying to help out."

"It's _never_ that simple with you."

The brunette hisses, and the little man seems to think about this pensively, before nodding in agreement.

"That is because you and I have often been at odds, and there is much to be gained from keeping one step ahead of you. Take that as a compliment; it was meant as one. The same rule doesn't apply to Emma. I am fairly sure that I will be best positioned supporting her wishes. At least for now."

He holds out the vial once again as his tone carries an air of finality, and after a moment's pause, the blonde reaches out to take it from him.

"What do I do with it?"

"It's to be taken before bed, half an hour or so should do it. A couple of swallows will be sufficient. Keep whatever there is left over... It might come in useful."

His eyes glitter as he smiles cryptically, and Emma regards the greenish liquid in her hand dubiously.

"Do I just drink it straight?"

"It can be injested however... But I never said that _you_ were the one that would be drinking it."

"Huh?"

Emma frowns, and Gold smiles as he tilts his jaw pointedly towards Regina.

"Miss Swan merely needs to be present when you retire to bed, dearie... I trust that shouldn't be _too_ much of a problem for either of you."

"How dare you-"

"-What's it going to do to her?"

The blonde interrupts the Mayor's fury nervously.

"Nothing untoward, I promise you... But you might want to restrain her."


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was so looking forward to the next chapter, but this felt like it needed to be written/ said first. I hope you enjoy, and I'm excited for the next couple as they should be fun :D Reviews would be really appreciated :)

When they get back into the Mayor's car, they drive towards her house with little said between them. The blonde sits with her hand buried in the pocket of her leather jacket, clutching the curious vial bestowed on them by Gold, while Regina frowns at the passing scenery which glistens drearily with rain. She doesn't ask if Emma means to come back with her, she just assumes. She would guess that they might have one or two things to talk about following their strange conversation with Gold.

With Rumplestiltskin.

"Are you coming?"

Is all she asks as she parks in front of the steps to the mansion, and the younger woman nods, offering none of the smirked glee she might have given that statement this morning.

"Yeah."

Emma agrees, letting herself out of the Benz and following Regina up the steps to the door. The Mayor lets herself in and stalks towards the kitchen with the blonde in her wake. There they find Johanna and Henry; the former hovering over the stove and several pleasant-smelling saucepans, the latter with his head bowed over a comic book at the table.

"Hello, dearest."

The old maid greets the brunette fondly, before flashing Emma a polite smile. The blonde reciprocates in kind, feeling a small wave of affection towards the elderly redhead that has very little to do with their own interactions and everything to do with the genuine kindness Johanna offers Regina.

"Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes. I'm making seafood linguine with a chilli kick. I've had Henry test the sauce."

Jo informs the brunette, grinning as she knows how picky the boy can be when it comes to a little heat. Regina smiles back, feeling altogether much better now that she's away from Gold's shop and its haunted artefacts and back in a safe place with the people she trusts. As such, her nerves have dissipated enough for her to throw a knowing smirk over at her son who rolls his eyes, before her attention lingers momentarily on the blonde; wondering if Henry gets his palate- far less adventurous than her own- from Emma.

_Hard to say. Miss Swan has anything but a refined or selective palate._

_That you know of. It's impossible to say based off the past- she wasn't in any position to be picky back then. She needed to eat and she knew it._

Green eyes flicker up to meet her own as the younger woman becomes aware of her gaze, and she offers a small smile; supposing it says a lot that at no point during her musing has she balked or resented the thought of the biological tie connecting Emma to her son. It still causes her some disquiet, and she imagines it always will simply due to the circumstances, but on the whole, thinking about what strange and unlikely traits the blonde might have unwittingly passed down lends her more amusement than it does discomfort.

"Will you be joining Madame Mayor for dinner?"

Johanna asks Emma, and the blonde nods after a quick glance to check. Regina smiles, before stalking over to the cupboard to fetch a bottle of wine. She pulls down just two glasses as she knows the redhead rarely drinks on the job whether she is offered the opportunity or not, and pours Emma and herself each a glass of merlot.

"Please, Johanna, dear. Just 'Regina' will be fine around Miss Swan."

She corrects as she hands the younger woman her wine, and her eyes lock for a moment with the blonde's as Emma flashes her a suggestive grin that she swiftly looks away from with a clearing of her throat.

"Where were you guys?"

Henry asks from the corner, and Regina beckons that the blonde should follow her over to the table to take a seat as she replies cryptically

"We were running a couple of errands."

"What kind of errands?"

"Just some things that needed doing outstanding from this morning, before visiting Gold's shop."

The Mayor replies, catching the small twitch of the younger woman's lips at this vague reference to their time spent indulging in their little experiment back in the hospital.

_Back in the elevator._

_God. Miss Swan should vocalise her sordid curiosities more often._

She swallows, but otherwise keeps her composure perfectly. This goes unnoticed by Henry, who has far more interest in what his mothers might have been doing confiding in the Dark One than he does in whatever they might have gotten up to previously, which was most likely grown up and boring.

"What were you talking to Ru-... Gold about?"

He asks curiously, flashing a glance over at Jo who stands frowning indecisively at the pot of basil growing in the windowsill.

"We were asking if he had any insight on things that might help Emma at all."

The brunette sighs, and the boy's eyes alight with hope which slowly dies as he deduces that the brunette looks anything but excited.

"He couldn't help?"

Henry asks glumly, and the blonde shifts uncomfortably in her chair as she touches her fingers to the vial and starts up uncertainly

"Well... We-"

"-We don't know yet. But we'll keep trying."

Regina interrupts, locking eyes with the younger woman and shaking her head warningly. Emma pulls a face in return and takes a deep, uneasy sip of her wine. They say nothing more on the matter, and the Mayor simply watches as Henry goes back to his comic; turning to the blonde to discuss super powers and battle stats that mean absolutely nothing to her.

She can't help but feel slightly perturbed at the way Emma will happily argue the practicalities of invisibility over the power of flight, and yet refuses to accept something so simple as her birth right.

_That's not fair, it's not the same thing._

_None of this is fair._

"Dinner's ready."

Johanna heralds from the counter, and the brunette lets out a sigh of relief and sends Henry off to go and wash his hands before leading them through into the dining room.

* * *

Dinner is surprisingly pleasant, the conversation remarkably casual and devoid of too many awkward lulls. Johanna had opted to stay in the kitchen to clean up- needing to head off before it gets too late to call in at the pharmacy on her way home- and so it ends up just being the three of them; each privately surprised at how comfortable they feel with the others.

Since touching on the subject briefly, Henry hasn't given the exact nature of his mother's relationship with Emma any real thought; he has been far too busy thinking of them as the Queen and the Saviour. Now though, watching the two women talk- and _laugh_! His mother is actually _laughing_ at things the blonde says, and not in a cruel way- he is old enough to understand that the way Regina and Emma look at each other is not the way friends, even _old_ friends, look at one another. Unlike before, this realisation doesn't cause him to blush, but rather to grin. He'd known for a long time that his mother had been unhappy. She'd denied it, and had simply said that she missed the blonde who she had told him so much about, but he'd known that it was more than that. She loves him and she was careful to keep anything else hidden for fear it might cause him distress, but sometimes that facade would fall for just a moment when she'd not known he was looking, and he'd see that his mother was unhappy with the choice she'd made to send Emma away. She'd been lonely, and he'd only asked her once a couple of years ago why she didn't simply try to make new friends with some of the people in town. That had been a little while before he'd learned of the curse, but he'd been fully aware of the fact that Regina had little time for anybody in Storybrooke save for himself and her maid. He'd understood though, even then, that when she'd snapped at him that she had no interest in forcing new acquaintanships, the irritation in her tone was just a mask, and that what she'd _meant_ was that she didn't want a replacement for the woman she'd told him a lot about.

"What did you think of Gold's shop?"

He asks Emma curiously as the blonde reaches for the pepper, and she hesitates, momentarily frozen, before completing her task with slow efficiency. Regina watches on, wondering if the blonde means to answer.

"...It was interesting. There were a lot of quite strange things in there, some of them nicer than others. It's a bit of an odd place, though."

"Why do you think that?"

Henry pushes, and Emma shrugs as she challenges simply

"Don't you agree?"

"...Yes."

The boy states finally, before leaning across the table to address the blonde with blunt honesty

"But _I_ think that because the things he has in there are _magic_. They're enchanted... What about you?"

Henry's words are bold, but the brunette catches a shadow flicker at his throat as he swallows. She has not raised him to be a difficult child, and certainly she has taught him to respect his elders. He is headstrong though, and brave. For a moment, she considers stepping in- spying a glimmer of discomfort alight the blonde's eyes, and unsure whether it stems from Henry's challenge or from the awkwardness she is fully aware the younger woman still feels in knowing who the boy is- but in the end she decides to allow Emma to find her feet. After all, Henry's bold request for an explanation is something she has had to endure from the blonde's lips many a time, and she is curious to see how this will play out.

"I don't _know_ what I think, yet."

Emma replies eventually, but there is nothing dismissive in her tone, just aplogetic honesty, and the boy's young brow furrows, but he nods his acceptance.

"We'll find a way to work it out."

Regina assures quietly, watching as the blonde's hand goes to the pocket of her jacket, and she flashes the younger woman a small smile before instructing Henry to take his empty plate to the kitchen and get together any bits he might need before going to bed.

He does as he's told, and by the time she and Emma are loading their own plates into the dishwasher and pouring themselves a second glass of wine, he's back down in the kitchen clad in his pyjamas to say goodnight. He does so without any real thought at first; padding up to his mother as he always does to give her a hug and accept a kiss to the crown of his head. It's only when he turns around and is faced with saying goodnight to the blonde that he falters. He can sense that he's not alone in this as he can see the way she stiffens a little as she offers him a wide grin that speaks quite clearly of nervousness. He recalls the way he had understood back in his castle- back when he had found Emma sat huddled and alone- that _he_ was the one taking charge of the situation, but he hadn't minded at all. Similarly now, he feels unsure rather than uncomfortable, but rather than allow the feeling to flourish, he takes a couple of steps forwards and opens his arms tentatively, waiting to see what she'll do. He has hugged her before, but it had been to offer solace and comfort, nothing so ordinary and familiar as a familial embrace.

"Goodnight."

He offers her quietly, and she nods as she allows him to wrap his arms around her waist, bending down a little so that she can give him a brief squeeze back. Henry appears delighted by this, seemingly willing to push any of the awkwardness tainting the moment aside as he turns for the door and leaves. Emma seems a little less sure what to do with herself, and she replaces Henry's embrace with her own as as stands with her arms tightly clutched over her stomach almost defensively. She looks down at the floor, but when Regina clears her throat, she raises her gaze slowly; a little nervous about what she might find in the darker woman's eyes.

 _I'm sorry if that wasn't the right way to handle that, but fuck, I don't_ know _the right way to handle it! Maybe that makes me a bad person, I don't know. I honestly don't. All I know is that I have no clue if I feel happy or sad, and that's strange for me. Usually I know exactly how I feel, whether others like it or not. But not here. Not with him. And not always with you._

In the end, she finds she is no more able to read Regina's emotions than she is able to grasp her own, but when she thins her lips nervously, the brunette recirprocates with a smile.

"It will get easier."

The Mayor assures quietly, and Emma sighs as she sips from her wine and asks in a low tone

"For me or for you?"

"... I would suspect for the both of us. I've had a long time to process who you are and how this might go."

"I know that..."

"Well, if what I have told you thus far is to be _believed_."

Regina points out with a tight smile, and the blonde shakes her head as she leans against the counter and contemplates her glass.

"I believe you on that count. Wholly and fully. I might still be struggling to understand how ten years have passed where I lost all memory of this place, I might still resist the reasons you've given me for everything, but I accept that you've known I'm Henry's... Who I am to Henry for all that time... But I've known that my parents, my mother, left me in the woods as a newborn for twenty-eight _years_ , and it's never gotten easier due to the passing of time. Resentment and anger made it easier, but I would be very sorry if that was how Henry started to deal with this, despite perhaps deserving it."

"... You know my thoughts on that."

"I do... All due respect though, it's no longer just _your_ thoughts that might be vocalised on the matter."

"I agree, but I've told you; Henry has been told precisely why and how things came to be. You may retell him of those matters in your own words, and you can fill in any blanks I might not have been in a position to explain, but he knows the important factors of how he came to live here with me. He doesn't hold you accountable for the past, but he will for what happens from here on out. Like it or not, he sees you very much as family, and he has some pretty high expectations now that you've come back. I appreciate that might seem unfair, but I think it's important that you understand what's at stake... So long as you remain open to letting me help you, Henry will understand and try to help where he can. He cares about you, I hope you realise that. You have a chance now to show him who you _are_ , and not the awful person you've always imagined he'd think you to be.

"... By believing in a bunch of _fairytales_. If I could, I _would_... I understand what you're saying, but that's a little unfair; tying the kid's emotions into what you've asked me to do."

"The whole _situation_ is unfair, but what I've just told you is not. Henry needs you to do this just as much as everyone else in this town. The only person that _doesn't_ need you to do it is myself. However, as I've said, I _want_ you to do it. I would never attempt to win your mind over on this using guilt... After all, I am not exactly in a place to point the finger when it comes to you, and I would fear to have such an act retaliated upon.

I merely think that it is important for you to know that your son- _our_ son- truly believes that you can do this. He has faith in you."

Regina confides gravely, and she watches as Emma looks swiftly out the window; seemingly suddenly transfixed on something with her full attention, despite darkness having set in leaving the world beyond the glass a mystery. She scratches at her nose, quickly swiping her finger slyly beneath her eye, and when she finally looks back at the brunette- her composure held with her breath- her brow furrows as the Mayor regards her with amusement.

"What?"

The blonde snaps, and the darker woman shrugs before turning around and heading for the door.

"Nothing, dear."

Sh smirks to herself as Emma falls into step behind her, and leads them upstairs to her bedroom. There, she takes a seat on the bed, smiling at the younger woman as she closes the door behind them and leans against the painted wood with her hands shoved in her pockets.

"You know, you can take that hideous thing off, I am paying for the house to be heated."

Regina points out, and the blonde grins distractedly as she works her way out of red leather, quipping back

"That's such a transparent argument. I know you just want to perv."

"Hmm... I'm not sure I appreciate the term, but I do appreciate the view, this is true."

The brunette agrees, watching as the younger woman stalks over to her dresser to lay her jacket on top after removing the glass vial from the pocket.

Turning back to face the Mayor, Emma walks over to the bed to perch opposite her, laying the vial down between them carefully before looking up into glittering coals.

"So... I guess we should talk about this."


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Enjoy, sorry it cuts off where it does but I've been short of time this week, and hopefully it just builds things up for the next chapter! :D Reviews would be awesome!

" _So... I guess we should talk about this."_

"I'd imagine so."

Regina agrees, eyes fixed on the delicate vial before looking back up at Emma who regards the glass nervously.

"...I'm sorry."

The blonde offers eventually, and the Mayor frowns in confusion.

"What for?"

"Well, it's just when My Gold gave us this thing, I kind of thought _I'd_ have to drink it. I didn't know _you_ would have to do it, and we have no clue what the hell it even _is_!"

The younger woman pulls a face, and Regina raises a brow as she considers the blonde with an air of irritation.

"What makes you think that I would rather _you_ ingest some unknown concoction, given how ignorant we each are in the matter? You honestly think I would find myself vexed that _I'm_ the one that has to do this?"

"Well-"

"-I am, but it has absolutely _nothing_ to do with _you_. I wish I knew more about what this stuff might do, I'm not going to pretend otherwise, but I have known Rumplestiltskin a long time, and I know that nothing that man dabbles in comes without a cloak of mystery and a veil of the unknown... I suggested we go and see him as I was fairly certain I would be able to ascertain whether he meant us harm or might actually be able to help, and I did not get the feeling that he meant the former by giving us this. I would _rather_ be going into this with some knowledge of what to expect, but I _certainly_ wouldn't rather the task fell to _you_. That's not something I am _ever_ going to wish for, Emma, and I hope you believe me when I say that."

"... I'm just kind of nervous."

The younger woman sighs, accepting the brunette's words with a shy dip of her head. At this, Regina smiles, and she admits gravely

"In that, we are currently well matched."

"In _many_ things we are."

Emma shrugs, and the Mayor opens out her palms in an accepting gesture and picks up the delicate glass to study it up close.

"It looks _vile_."

She states with a wrinkle of her nose, and Emma grins as she points out

"Well, he did say you could drink it with anything you liked."

"I might have to."

Regina sighs, before looking up into glittering green and catching the younger woman out as she studies her appreciatively.

"What's with that look?"

She asks with a tone of mock irritation, but she's fairly sure she understands the blonde's intent, and she can feel her chest flushing accordingly.

"I was just thinking about what Mr Gold said concerning restraints."

Emma grins, and dark eyes narrow as Regina challenges

"What about it?"

"Well... I mean from the sounds of it we're going to have at least half an hour before this stuff kicks in... It could be fun. We-"

"-Absolutely not."

The brunette snaps, and she meets the furrowing of the younger woman's brow with haughty silence.

"You did it to me..."

Emma points out, and the darker woman swallows as she recalls tying the blonde to the bed by her ankle when their sexual explorations had still been in their infancy. She remembers how divine the girl had looked- young and keen- spread out across the bed they perch on now, and she bites her bottom lip as she drinks in the subtle changes to the younger woman's face and demeanour.

 _Yes, I did it to you... I did it to you because you as good as asked me to. I did it to you because I knew you would let me, because that's the way this all worked back then... It's the way I have always done things. I like for everything to go my way- to go to my pleasing- and that worked so_ well _when you were younger as it's precisely what_ you _wanted, too. You wished in so many ways to serve me, and it was my_ choice _to refrain from taking advantage, not your rule._

Now, she is unsure. Emma has offered herself up and made herself vulnerable to her whims on several occasions since returning to town, but Regina hesitates as she recalls the way the blonde had taken charge the first time they'd given in to temptation this time around, down in her office. There had been a dominance there; a different breed to her own entirely, but it had been dominance none the less. The younger woman is self assured now, and the dangerous question of the unknown exploits enjoyed in the brunette's absence taints the air between them as each studies the other.

Raising her jaw, Regina speaks quietly but candidly, supposing that if she is willing to drink some elusive potion for the blonde's sake, she might as well also have the gall to vocalise her thoughts in front of the girl.

"Yes, I did it to you... Sex isn't like playing a board game though, dear; the notion of 'fair' is rather complex."

"I tend to cheat at board games."

Emma informs her simply, and the darker woman raises a brow but continues on

"It caused me a lot of strife to try and get my head around the way that you liked things when you were here before, Emma. I enjoyed every part of our exploration into depravity, but knowing that you would allow pain and discomfort would upset me afterwards, I made no secret of that fact. It suited us, though. You were so accepting, so willing. So..."

"Submissive?"

The younger woman asks, and Regina bites her lip as she hesitates; unable to read the blonde's expression nor her tone.

"I was."

Emma nods when she understands that the brunette is unsure what to say.

"I still _am_ at times, but as you said, it's complex. When we first met, I was infatuated with you. I'd never met anyone like you, and I mean that in a lot of ways, _one_ of which is sexual. I was submissive towards you because I trusted you, but _also_ because that's just the way the roles fell; you were amazing to me, I felt like I owed you, I wanted to please you and I honestly just couldn't get my head around the fact that you wanted as much to do with me as you did.

... I guess I _still_ feel that way a little bit...

But it's been ten years, Regina. I pulled myself out of the rut I was in- with a big thanks to _you_ as it turns out- and I've both gained in confidence and in anger. I've messed around with some real assholes in the past, but for whatever reason, I've willingly gone along with their flaws to scratch the itch. I felt none of the awe I feel when around _you_ though, and after years of being stepped on and talked down to, I kind of felt like _I_ wanted to call the shots for a change... I found that I quite _enjoyed_ doing it, too..."

"Yes?"

Regina asks, unable to quell the jealous twinge she has begun to expect at any mention of the blonde's previous relationships- _fucks. Flings. Note how she has refrained from wording it in any way that might suggest an actual meaningful partnership-_ but she is intrigued as she drinks in the dark suggestion clouding the younger woman's eyes.

"Sure. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy people begging and pleading with _me_ for a change."

"...You never begged."

The brunette breathes, and Emma smiles; a hard smile that causes the Mayor to swallow.

"No, I never did-"

The blonde agrees

"-But someone less gracious than yourself might have asked me to."

"They _might_ have, but it would have killed it for you. There were times in the past when I felt I was pushing it- when I was very aware of the fact I had you eating out the palm of my hand- but I was careful not to ruin it for you ... I didn't want to get bitten."

The darker woman muses, and she can feel heat creeping across her cheeks; not a sign of embarrassment, but rather of arousal. Of excitement. She has been cautious when broaching the subject of sex outside of their shared little bubble; knowing that she won't like what she hears. This is different, though. This isn't Emma telling her about any specific tryst or person, this is the blonde discussing her tastes with a candidness that her previous timidity would not allow.

_Timidity is a strange term when describing Miss Swan..._

In some ways yes, but not in others. When they had discussed sex before, Emma had oscillated between endearingly awkward and pridefully defiant, but she had never proposed an actual _conversation_ about the matter.

_She just confided that she liked for it to hurt a little, and left most of the rest of it to me._

"But I _did_ bite you."

The younger woman reminds quietly, and Regina wets her lips as she touches the white crescents left by the blonde's teeth all those years ago through the soft fabric of her skirt.

"Yes, that's right, you did..."

"I _know_ what you like, Regina."

Emma confides softly, and the brunette blinks as she is aware that she leans in helplessly as her eyes remain locked with cool green.

"We've been told to use restraints either way, and while I kind of wonder just how seriously to take that weird little man's suggestion, I know your mind as well as your body, and I _know_ you're going to insist on following his advice so long as I'm around... Why not take _advantage_ of the fact?"

The blonde asks, brushing her lips softly against the Mayor's just once before pulling back and waiting for an answer. The brunette closes her eyes as she feels the lingering whisper of the younger woman's kiss, before admonishing quietly

"You've grown so bold, dear."

"I could show you just how true that is if you let me."

Emma grins, but when dark eyes cast her with a stern glower, she appeases quietly

"Regina, do you _remember_ when I bit you? I did it because you _asked_ me to. That was the _only_ reason why. You asked me to show you how I might like to be treated, and I did as you said. That's the only time I really pushed you sexually, and it was at your request... I _know_ not to bite you. I know you won't like it. I know that you won't beg for me anymore than I would for you... I'm suggesting that we have a little fun, that's all. I want to take you outside of your comfort zone, but I'm not about to go and throw _everything_ I know about you out the window and forget who I'm dealing with."

"... I know that."

Regina replies, although she wonders if she _had_ known it, because hearing the younger woman say those words strikes her helplessly to the core.

"Being bound, though... It goes against _everything_ that I... It... I mean, I was the..."

She struggles to find the right words as the blonde leans in and tastes her while pushing pointedly at her shoulders; the younger woman accepting Regina's acknowledgment as a silent agreement that they play this her way.

"You were the _Queen_?"

Emma asks, and the darker woman bares her teeth as she doesn't miss the slight teasing note to otherwise sultry words.

"Yes. I was the Queen."

"Well, I'm not taking that assertion _away_ from you... How many times have you asked me in the past if I trust you?"

"Emma..."

"How many?"

"... I've lost count."

"That's perhaps a _slight_ exaggeration, but the point is, I always _did_."

The blonde muses as she leans over the brunette with her hand slipped up beneath the latter's shirt.

"We don't _have_ to do this... I can go get you some juice or some wine so that you can drink whatever's in that vial, and we can tie your hands to something and just wait for whatever's supposed to happen. I won't be _mad_ or anything if that's what you'd rather do... But I'd _like_ to take the kind of strange opportunity that's presented itself here tonight, and I'd _really_ like to think you would trust me well enough to know I'm not gonna do anything I'll have to answer for later..."

"... I trust you."

"Yeah?"

"Yes... I must admit; I'm intrigued as well as opposed to the idea, and as you said, the restraints are going to be bought into play either way... I just... How did you word it when you started working for me again? Remember, Miss Swan that I'm not your 'bitch'."

Green eyes widen in surprise at this uncharacteristic choice of wording, before the younger woman flashes her teeth and assures

"Oh, I know. But you _will_ be 'mine' for as long as it takes for that stuff to take effect."

"... I can make my peace with that."

Regina replies softly, and she points over to the chest of drawers in the corner and instructs

"There's silk ties in the top right drawer. If that's not sufficient, there are belts in the middle, but I would really rather you-"

"-Silk is fine."

"... I meant that more in heed of Rumple's warning."

"I figured... It's alright, you're not about to get free."

"Otherwise check on your phone and see what the best type of knot would be. I'm serious, dear, we-"

"-Regina. Please... I _have_ done this before-"

Emma chuckles lightly, before leaning back down and confiding huskily

"-And I'm pretty damn good at it."


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Enjoy :) Please review :)

Regina swallows at the dark confidence lacing the blonde's tone and looks up at her heatedly as Emma remains leant over her for a moment longer; eyes glittering and lips parted in a sordid grin.

"That was rather arrogant for you, dear."

She breathes, and the younger woman shrugs as she pushes herself up off the bed and stalks over to the dresser, replying coolly

"Well, I _could_ tell you I'm a novice and perform poorly in these matters, but neither of those things are true."

"I see... You know, I can't decide if I find this new side to you disconcerting or alluring... You were such a _nice_ girl..."

The brunette muses, watching as pale fingers dip into the shadows of her top drawer, and she smirks as she is well aware that Emma's attention is currently purely on her underwear rather than the few silk scarves hidden in the mix.

"I wasn't so nice. Not back then, and certainly not now."

The younger woman replies with her back to the bed, and there's an icy quality to her tone that Regina picks up on easily, but she pushes back all the same; standing by her original opinion.

"You were. You were nice- _lovely_ , really- to me... You've always had such a negative view of yourself, but it simply isn't founded."

"Not true, I just told you I was a good fuck."

Emma retorts moodily, and the darker woman sighs as the blonde finally selects two scarves- one red, one black- and turns to face her.

"Don't be like that... As it is though, I'd _meant_ that you were nice in the context of our imminent exploits. You were sweet."

"Yeah, well, I guess I was kind of naïve, but-"

"-Oh, I never meant you were _innocent_. You've never been innocent in the time that I've known you, I'm fully aware! I meant exactly what I said; you were nice. Sweet. Lovely."

"Ugh, stop."

The younger woman wrinkles her nose, and the Mayor laughs huskily.

"You're also painfully predictable."

She muses, and Emma gives her a weighted look before climbing back onto the bed and straddling her silently. Regina swallows as the blonde reaches for her hand, and watches as the younger woman presses her wrist to the headboard and ties it in place. She does so assertively, weaving a complex knot with ease. Once done, Emma looks back down and instructs quietly.

"Ok, try pulling free."

The darker woman obeys, eyes locked with the blonde's as she tugs forcefully to no avail.

"It's a little tight."

She murmurs as the younger woman reaches for her other hand, and Emma nods as she repeats her previous trick with the knot and simply agrees

"Yes, it will be."

"Do you think you could do something about it?"

Regina frowns, and green eyes find hers as the blonde looks down at her with her long hair casting shadow.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, it doesn't _hurt,_ but-"

"-Then no."

Emma shakes her head, and the brunette frowns.

"But-"

"-The restraints aren't just for the fun of it, remember?"

The younger woman points out, and the Mayor thins her lips but supposes that this is true.

"I also don't play this game half-assed-"

The blonde continues, bringing her hands down to the darker woman's shirt and beginning to unfasten the small, pearl buttons.

"-I don't really get the _point_ of false offers of control, you know? When the receiving party could easily get free and it's all for show... I hate it when it's like that in movies."

She sighs, and Regina raises a brow at this last remark and nips at her bottom lip. Emma catches on swiftly and grins, leaning forwards as she parts the Mayor's shirt to reveal expensive lace

"See? Not such a nice girl after all."

"...I'm finding it increasingly difficult to find fault in that..."

The brunette admits breathlessly as wicked fingers trail over her stomach lightly, dipping for a moment into her navel before skimming the top of her skirt playfully.

"Good."

Emma smirks, before pushing herself up with a chuckle at the Mayor's resultant frown.

"I'm going to get some wine for you to take that stuff with."

She explains, before leaning over and pulling at the darker woman's skirt; pushing it up to display her sordidly and stepping back to admire her work. Regina swallows, feeling utterly debauched in her current position, and she stares back at the blonde with fire glittering in her eyes as she tells her huskily

"Be a dear and lock the door when you come back up..."

"... Ordinarily I'd say no and see what you'd offer me, but I think in this instance your reservations match mine."

The younger woman confides with a slight blush, and Regina smirks as she watches her slip from the room; her breath becoming shallow with anticpation as she realises just how completely she lies at Emma's mercy.

* * *

Closing the door quietly behind her, Emma hurries down the hall; casting a brief glance towards Henry's room and silently approving of the fact that Regina's bedroom is fairly well set apart from the rest of the house, with a narrow airing cupboard and some built in wardrobes separating it from the rest of the landing. After all, she had promised not too push the brunette's boundaries too far, but she's hoping to achieve at least a couple of pleasured cries before Gold's potion takes affect.

_Potion... Are we really going to call it that? Seriously?_

"Tonic. Gold's tonic."

_Much better! A strange and mystical 'tonic' that requires tying Regina to the bed and being mixed with wine. Totally sane!_

She rolls her eyes as she pads swiftly towards the kitchen. She grabs the bottle of merlot without switching on the lights, memory serving her well as she'd once spent many hours at the Mayor's house. She makes her way back upstairs quickly, but stops in front of the bedroom door to collect herself. Pulling herself up to her full height and raising her jaw, she pushes the door open slowly and stalks in without a word. She turns her back on the brunette lying semi-exposed on the bed and turns the key in the lock as requested; the sound curiously loud and full of promise.

"Oh good, you're still here."

She muses, and Regina narrows her eyes with low sigh as she flexes her hands pointedly against her bonds.

"You didn't bring up a glass."

The brunette frowns, and Emma shakes her head as she pulls the stopper from the bottle with an audible pop and takes a sip.

"Don't need one."

She replies, poking out her tongue slyly; wicked pink stained purple.

"Ugh."

Regina scolds dutifully, although her disdain is fairly unconvincing. The blonde smirks and offers a careless shrug in response, drinking in soft skin and the telling wetness tainting crimson lace.

"Miss me?"

She teases, and dark eyes glitter dangerously as the Mayor neither confirms nor denies this theory.

"I think we'll lose the skirt altogether though, it's just going to get in the way."

Emma muses, and she places the wine on the brunette's nightstand before perching on the bed to put her plan into action.

"That's what you think, is it?"

The darker woman hisses, not used to being in a position where she doesn't call the shots. Where she has limited say over what happens.

"It is, that's why I said it."

The blonde replies flippantly, and she relishes the way the Mayor glares at her reproachfully.

"Come on, don't pretend it's not annoying you that it's gonna get all creased bunched up like that."

She goads impishly, and Regina rolls her eyes but admits irritably

"I'd rather it didn't get ruined, that's true."

"Me too."

Emma replies, and the brunette shakes her head as she calls her out easily

"You have no interest in my skirt, Miss Swan, but rather what it hides."

"True, although it's not hiding all that _much_ just now."

The younger woman grins; cupping her hand over wet lace pointedly and sliding two fingers slowly down over the Mayor's covered sex.

"Take it off."

Regina breathes, and Emma removes her hand immediately and scolds

"This isn't your show, you don't call the shots."

"You just _said_ you wanted to-"

"-That's right; _I_ wanted to... Don't tell me what to do."

The younger woman warns, and the Mayor opens her mouth to argue back, before resisting the urge. She despises being spoken to as Emma has just done, but there's something curious in the blonde's tone that keeps her hooked. There had been a foreign note of ice in the younger woman's voice, dissimilar from her more usual cold mannerisms. It hadn't been stoic and closed off as she has grown used to Emma being at times, but rather haughty. Bitchy. She imagines it's a tone blonde uses more often when she plays this way, and this discovery intrigues her. It's impersonal, and therefor ultimately not at all to her taste, but she allows it to go unchallenged for now as she's fairly certain that the younger woman hadn't even realised she was doing it.

"Go on."

She urges quietly, and Emma obliges; finding the zipper hidden down the side of the brunette's skirt before pulling it out from under her and tossing it onto the floor. This earns her a flash of teeth, which quickly widens into a gasp as the blonde dips her hand promisingly into tight lace as she leans down to nip lightly at the darker woman's clavicle.

"I think we should try this more often... You're clearly into it."

Emma murmurs teasingly in the Mayor's ear as she paints a glistening trail up the flat plane of her stomach with a slow slide of her finger. Regina bites at her throat in response; wanting more than anything to even the score as she usually would and make a point of discovering her own effects on the younger woman, but powerless in her bonds. The blonde picks up on her frustration easily and laughs softly as she climbs back on top of her prize; smirking down into dark eyes that glitter with warning.

"What's with that look? You have to admit this is fun."

Emma pushes, and the brunette raises a brow as she refuses to answer; agitated at her lack of control, but unable to deny how in favour she is of her current view.

Relenting a little, the younger woman's devilish grin becomes more sultry and she offers quietly

"I told you not to _tell_ me what to do... I'll permit you to _ask_..."

She dips down to taste the darker woman heatedly, and Regina responds hungrily; relishing the promise in the blonde's occasional use of her teeth- dangerous but careful.

"I am not a woman that asks permission."

She warns breathlessly; Emma moving over her slowly, providing wonderful friction with the roughness of her jeans.

"Perhaps not, but right now, you need it."

The blonde replies; moving down to the sweet hollow of the darker woman's throat.

"Not at all... I'm bound, true, but what would I need permission for?"

"I could think of something..."

Emma whispers; moving her hand down between them to earn herself a low noise of approval as she traces sodden lace playfully, before pointedly pulling her fingers away.

"You think I'm so weak that I can't handle standing my ground?"

Regina hisses, and the younger woman pushes herself back up and smiles as she appears to give this some thought.

"Let's see."

She replies eventually, and the brunette glowers at her but the effect is somewhat lost when the blonde pushes herself up so that she stands precariously over the Mayor; not altogether steady on the soft relief of the mattress.

"What are you doing?"

Regina asks curiously, before biting her lip in understanding as she watches the younger woman unbutton her jeans and pull them off; careful not to step on or kick her captive.

"I'll say it again; I won't let you tell me what to do, but I'll permit you to ask... Underwear on or off?"

Emma challenges, her palms splayed against the wall as she looks down on the brunette lying between her legs. Regina swallows as she weighs up whether to answer or deny the younger woman from winning her hand. She's tempted to remain insolently silent- Emma having tainted her offering by implying it comes with permission- but she's torn as she drinks in slender legs bare beneath plain cotton and black wool.

"Well?"

The younger woman demands, and the Mayor wets her bottom lip, before replying in a gravelly voice

"Off."

"Was that so hard?"

Emma grins, and Regina growls warningly

"Miss Swan... Remember what we discussed."

The blonde regards her silently for a moment, before simply lowering herself back down without any further comment.

"I said 'off'..."

Regina frowns, glancing down at black cotton before her eyes widen in surprise when the younger woman yanks roughly at her own underwear.

"I heard you."

Emma assures; pulling down damp lace and untangling it from slender legs.

"But, I thought..."

"You thought wrong."

The younger woman grins, and the brunette narrows her eyes irritably, but has to admit the only part of the current situation that vexes her is Emma beating her at their little game yet again. The blonde's leg falls between her own and offers sweet relief as soft lips find hers once again and sly fingers explore her flesh.

"You better drink that stuff before we forget... It slipped my mind a little."

The younger woman admits with a small smile against full lips; pushing her hand up beneath the brunette's bra as she tastes her deeply, before pushing herself back up and leaning over to reach the wine and the vile on the nightstand.

"Do you want me to mix it, or do one after the other?"

She asks; momentarily pulling out of the heat of the moment as she asks for the darker woman's preference.

"Don't mix it, that seems a waste and could taste foul. I'll drink the vial first, then some wine."

Regina replies, watching as Emma nods and cracks the seal around the top of the glass. Glancing up into dark eyes warily, the blonde pulls the stopper from the mouth of the vial and wrinkles her nose.

"It smells kind of like liquorice... But warm."

She muses, holding it out so that the brunette can smell for herself, but Regina shakes her head.

"I'd rather not know. Just... Let me drink it."

She instructs, feeling intensely unnerved as she waits for Emma to touch the vial to her lips.

"Don't say anything..."

She warns with a hard look, not prepared to have the hellishly submissive nature of their current scene become part of the younger woman's game, and the blonde shakes her head obediently; not saying a word as she tentatively tips the vial to allow the Mayor to drink. When only a little of the fluid remains in the glass, she pulls it away gently; eyes wide as she studies the brunette with rapt concern.

"Are you okay?"

Regina closes her eyes and nods, grimacing at the bitter taste of the strange concoction, before gasping breathlessly

"Wine."

Emma complies immediately, tipping the bottle carefully against parted lips and watching as the brunette drinks deeply.

"Was it bad?"

She asks as she lowers the bottle and studies the Mayor uncertainly.

"I'd certainly not recommend it."

Regina replies with a disagreeable shudder, before looking up at the blonde and assuring quietly

"I feel fine though, appalling taste aside."

"Good."

Emma nods, before leaning forward and kissing the darker woman deeply. She can taste the wine on the brunette's tongue and a faint hint of something spiced and foreign. Allowing Regina momentary dominance over their kiss, she shows her gratitude, before taking back the reigns and regaining control. Pushing up the darker woman's bra, she explores newly uncovered flesh teasingly, before lowering her head for a taste. Regina moans approvingly, and hooks her leg around the blonde's thigh in an attempt to pull her in and provide some relief. Emma laughs quietly against pert flesh, before moving her hand down between them to earn herself a more guttural groan.

"This is usually the part where you'd reciprocate."

Emma murmurs into the underside of the darker woman's jaw- grazing her teeth gently down against her throat- and Regina shivers as she replies honestly

"If I could, I would, dear."

This garners her a deliciously deep dip of wicked fingers and she cries out softly. She takes care to remember that Henry sleeps down the hall, but his room is set apart from hers, and she allows herself to be as vocal as she dares. She does so partly to make up for the fact that she is unable to touch the blonde as she'd like; knowing the younger woman appreciates the encouragement in the most sinful of ways. She finds she is unable to help herself either way as Emma moves above her, and she realises that the blonde has altered the angle of her hand slightly to proved herself with some relief as she bucks into her.

"You're not going to stop suddenly, are you?"

She asks breathlessly as pleasure coils low in her gut with each sordid dip of the younger woman's fingers. She tenses a little, wondering if Emma will retaliate or tell her that she's out of line in their current role play, and she prepares to bite back if the blonde so much as _dares_. As it is, Emma hesitates as she tries to decide what to do about the brunette's choked enquiry. She wants to scold her for trying to force her way, but she is aware that rather than _telling_ her not to stop, Regina's words had been put forward as a question, and an audibly _desperate_ one at that. She knows that this is all uncomfortably foreign to the darker woman- being in a position where she doesn't call the shots- and there had been a clear note of wariness in her tone. Deciding to show the brunette a little pity, she pushes herself up and replies honestly

"Yes, I'm going to stop."

Before silencing any argument as she moves pointedly down the bed with clear intent. Pushing at slender thighs, she keeps her grip firm but not so hard that she'll leave a bruise. Dipping her head to taste her spoils, she slides one hand down soft skin to stroke over wet folds and deepens her assault as the brunette begins to show signs of nearing the edge.

"Emma, please... I know... I know you're running this one, but please... If you stop... I... Please don't stop!"

Regina urges before biting back a moan; aware that she's pleading, but unable to focus on anything but her imminent release.

Whether due to the Mayor's words or simply her nature, Emma does as she's asked and quickens her pace; grazing sensitive flesh with her teeth as the brunette arches her back and shakes tellingly with a choked sob.

"Emma!"

Regina groans through clenched teeth, a series of breathy cries escaping her lips as the blonde continues to tease her mercilessly.

"Oh god, stop!"

She whispers, shuddering violently as the younger woman does no such thing, before tensing up with a raspy moan as she feels herself go over again even more intensely than before.

"Fuck! Oh fuck!"

She pants, and Emma laughs as she finally shows some mercy and lets up, grinning wickedly

"Good, was it?"

"Oh my god..."

Regina replies dazedly with her eyes closed and her chest still heaving, and she lets out a surprised grunt as the younger woman falls ontop of her and tastes her playfully.

"See, told you it would be fun."

Emma smirks, and the Mayor nods without opening her eyes before adopting her own small smile.

"Evidently I'm not the only one that thought so..."

She teases, shifting her thigh pointedly against the damp swatch of the blonde's underwear to earn herself a low sigh.

"Yeah, well... You put on a good show."

The blonde replies huskily, meaning every word of it as her stomach flutters needfully.

"Mmm... I _do_ prefer it when I get my own little performance, though."

Regina admits, and Emma closes her eyes as she would currently whole heartedly agree.

"There's a solution... But you seemed so opposed before..."

She murmurs, and the brunette opens her eyes to study blown green and pushes breathlessly

"Yes? What's that?"

"Well... Your hands are tied..."

Emma muses quietly, and the Mayor nods before leaning in to kiss the blonde heatedly and hissing

"Yours aren't."

She shivers as the younger woman nips at her tongue lightly, feeling the blonde shift her weight a little as she slips her hand into her underwear while deepening their kiss. Regina closes her eyes once again as she tastes the blonde slowly; Emma moving against her as her affection becomes tellingly clumsy and short of breath. Finally, she tenses up with a low hum, and the darker woman bites at her lip wickedly as she relishes the feeling of the blonde quivering with her release.

"Better?"

"It's a start."

Emma grins against kiss-swollen lips, before pushing herself back and regarding the brunette pensively.

"How do you feel?"

She asks, and Regina smiles exhaustedly as she drinks in mussed hair and the telling colour to the younger woman's cheeks.

"Honestly? Pretty tired, which I suppose is good as I think under regular circumstances I would be unlikely to sleep dreading the unknown."

"You think Gold drugged that stuff?"

Emma asks uneasily, and the brunette shakes her head as she yawns.

"I think it's probably an effect of the potion itself. It would make sense if one needs to sleep for it to work."

"...What do you think's going to happen?"

The blonde asks, biting her lip, and Regina sighs as her lids feel suddenly much too heavy.

"I don't know... I think I'm going to let it happen, though."

She smiles sleepily, and the younger woman nods as she watches the Mayor close her eyes for longer and periods of time.

"Okay, do that. I'm going to go sit in the chair there and... Wait, I guess..."

She informs uncertainly, and the brunette nods without opening her eyes.

"Goodnight, dear."

"Yeah... Regina?"

"Mmm?"

"... I love you."

"Good."

The brunette smirks, before her expression becomes entirely serene.


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the wait, I was on holiday and then sorting some bits out for an event :) Back now! I was looking forward to this chapter but, as often happens, found it quite hard when it came to actually writing it! I realised I had no real plan for the following conversation, so I just hope it reads well and works to continue the story :) thanks for reading, and reviews are really appreciated!

Drumming her fingers on the bare flesh of her thigh, Emma waits. She isn't precisely sure what it _is_ that she's waiting for, but she imagines it will become apparent all too soon. She nips at her lip thoughtfully as her attention returns to the woman tied to the bed; watching the slow rise and fall of the brunette's chest as she dreams. Regina's bra remains pushed up to expose pert breasts, leaving her otherwise naked and on display with her legs gently parted. The blonde adopts a small grin, but it's tainted with uncertainty as she just hopes that everything is going to be alright and that drinking the contents of the vial hasn't put the darker woman in danger.

The vial in question now rests on the brunette's nightstand, and green eyes flicker to the remaining liquid sealed inside; little more than a swallow.

" _Keep whatever there is left over... It might come in useful."_

"For what?"

Emma murmurs, but she is offered no answer. The Mayor doesn't react to the sound of her voice, but she tells herself not to be alarmed. Before moving to the chair she sits in now, she'd tried getting a response from the brunette by saying her name and shaking her gently. Dark brows had furrowed slightly, but otherwise Regina had continued to sleep deeply. She hasn't moved since, and the blonde fidgets restlessly as she counts the seconds that pass them by. She looks for something to do- something to keep her occupied for the unknown time before... something... happens- but the brunette's room is neat and nicely decorated but lacking in activity.

_Never thought I'd think that..._

Emma allows a small smirk as she glances back up at exposed flesh, but her nerves keep her from taking the thought any further. Instead, her attention falls back to the nightstand, and she raises a brow as she notes the middle drawer juts out a little, presumably recently opened. Debating whether to investigate further, she tells herself not to go snooping where she shouldn't- the fact that she even has to do so striking her as strange as she is ordinarily not an especially nosey person- but something seems to draw her in.

 _Who knows, might find something interesting... She_ has _been without anyone to see to her needs for the last ten years..._

Again, a small, obligatory grin, but as she pushes herself up to take a look, she knows deep down she's not looking for- nor expecting to find- anything sordid.

 _No, but that_ is _something it might be interesting to ask her about..._

Definitely, as she knows Regina will have found her release _somehow_. She blushes as she pulls the drawer fully open- her cheeks flaring crimson as the vague thought enters her mind that if their positions had been reversed and Regina were to snoop in her own nightstand back in Boston, she might find _several_ things of interest, very _much_ of the sordid variety.

As it is, all she finds in the Mayor's drawer is a small lock box which she doesn't touch, and a couple of books.

"... Oh."

She sighs quietly, pulling out a familiar hardback from the bottom of the pile. She has never been one to put all too much belief in fate- although her beliefs and thoughts on _anything_ are being tested to the limit since coming to Storybrooke- but she understands now that not opening the drawer and peering inside had never really been an option.

"You kept it."

She muses down to the sleeping woman, padding back to the chair in the corner with the book held in her hand. It's a good one. She knows this. She knows this because it's her favourite in a trilogy she had once discussed with the brunette as a teenager, and again when she'd presumed Regina to be a stranger when she'd shown up at her apartment.

_I told you I lost it, and you said nothing... Of course you didnt, you couldn't... But you've had it all this time._

The weight of this realisation hits her hard, and she's a little surprised to feel tears prickle for a moment in her eyes. Sniffing and rubbing at her face roughly, she tells herself firmly to quit it and begins to read; curling up in the chair clad only in her tank top and underwear, just as she had been all those years ago when she'd invited the brunette to sleep on her mattress in the apartment where this all started.

She's ten pages in when a noise from the bed catches her attention. Placing the book down by her feet, she watches intently as the darker woman frowns and moves sluggishly; her hands forming slow fists as they remain tied to the headboard.

"What..."

The brunette hisses, opening her eyes with a wince as she lies beneath the subtly stylish light fixture that illuminates the room. Taking in her surroundings with an increasing air of confusion, her gaze falls upon the blonde sat observing her raptly and her breath catches in her throat as she opens her mouth in shock. Surprise swiftly becomes an angered sneer as she demands venomously

"What is the meaning of this?! Where am I?!"

Emma hesitates as she tries to assess the scene, not sure what to make of the Mayor's question. She narrows her eyes as the darker woman continues

"And who are _you_...?"

This stings with surprising ferocity, and the blonde scowls as she leans forward in her chair.

"... Regina?"

She tries uncertainly, and the brunette shows her teeth as she snaps back icily

"A little _informal_ , don't you think?"

Still, the brunette is slowly becoming more aware of her surroundings, and she takes in the way the curious wretch sat staring at her seems clad in only her underclothes, before looking down at herself and realising she lies intimately on display.

"What is going _on_? What have you _done_? What sorcery are you using?!"

She demands, before once again

"Who _are_ you?!"

"Emma!"

The younger woman snaps, utterly perplexed, but not liking the accusing tone to the brunette's voice, nor the way the darker woman currently looks at her.

"Emma...?"

Regina frowns, seeming to ponder over the name as she glares at the woman in the chair.

"Uhuh, Emma Swan, formerly just Emma, to you 'Miss Swan', or whatever you feel like moaning when you're going over."

"Going over where?"

The brunette frowns, and the younger woman offers her a bemused look.

"Seriously?"

"What are you implying?"

The darker woman hisses, and Emma shakes her head as she tries to get a handle on what's going on here.

"Do you _seriously_ not know who I am right now?"

"I know that you're in danger of losing your _tongue_ if you continue to speak to me in such a familiar tone... I _also_ suggest you avert your gaze if you know what's good for you. I don't know how I've come to be lying nude in this... hovel... but I can assure you, there will be harsh retribution!"

"I wouldn't be threatening my _tongue_ if I were you, it's only _just_ been put to good use... Are you messing with me, though? I mean... Do you _really_ not know where you are, or...?"

"What do you mean by that? Messing with you? What use might it have?"

"I mean that you're usually quite in _favour_ of my tongue and what it can do to you."

"How _dare_ you?!"

The brunette exclaims furiously, marking the strange blonde with daggers in her eyes as she drinks in pale flesh and messy curls. She supposes that she rather likes what she sees, but that hardly seems relevant at present, as the little bitch has yet to explain what on earth is going on.

"I am the _Queen_ , and you will speak to me as such!"

She warns angrily, and to her surprise the girl seems suddenly struck by a wave of realisation as she raises a shapely brow almost accusingly.

"Right... The Queen. Okay. Let's do this, then... Prove it."

"What?!"

"Go on. Prove that you're the Queen. Show me."

Emma encourages, and the darker woman seethes at the utter gall of the girl studying her intimately and reaches deep within herself for a surge of dangerous- perhaps _fatal_ if she strikes right- power.

Only...

"Nothing's happening."

She hisses.

"Well, what were you-"

"-What have you _done_ , you bitch?! I can't use my magic!"

The Queen snaps furiously, and the younger woman stiffens for a moment as she can recall only a couple of occasions when the brunette has called her a bitch, and they had all been either in the throes of passion or to goad a response. She's been called a bitch by plenty of _others_ in her lifetime- some of them using the same hateful tone the darker woman uses now- but to hear the term spat at her by Regina- spat like the brunette really _means_ it- hurts a little.

"I haven't done _anything_. Maybe you can't use your 'magic' because it's _crazy_?!"

"Liar! You've done _something_. You've done _something_ to me to quell my power! To shackle me up as I lie now! You _wretched_ woman!"

"You're tied _up_ because Gold told us it would be a good idea, and _you_ wanted to listen to him to make sure we'd both be okay! I've done _nothing_!"

"You've _defiled_ me!"

The Queen accuses toxically, and Emma seethes as while she isn't able to firmly grasp what seems to be happening- struggles to _process_ what seems to be happening- her defences come up immediately as she refuses to allow Regina to call her out for things she hasn't done.

 _Not again, it was bad enough the first time, back when I went to soothe Henry when he was crying, I did nothing wrong then and I haven't now, and she's not going to start accusing me of imagined transgressions._ Especially _not what she seems to be hinting at now!_

Beneath that defence, her own anger sparks up, and the two converge as she hisses back

"More times than I can count, and you loved every second of it..."

"Wretch!"

"Regina!"

Emma snaps back, dancing between anger at being spoken to in such a way, and unease as in the back of her mind, she isn't quite able to convince herself that the brunette is playing with her.

 _She_ can't _be the Queen. A Queen. A fucking QUEEN! She just can't be!_

"You're not the Queen..."

She says it quietly, almost hopefully, and raw fury alights the darker woman's face.

"How _dare_... How... Why, when I'm through with you, you'll be _begging_ me to just kill you already!"

The brunette fumes.

"I don't beg."

The blonde whispers, but she spies no smirk hiding behind furious contempt, and she swallows.

"Who _are_ you?"

The Queen asks again, her voice brittle with rage, and Emma shifts her position uneasily as she decides to try a different tactic.

"Emma, I _told_ you that already... If you _are_ the Queen, that name should mean something to you..."

"It is a wicked name, for a wicked abomination, but one that has little to do with _you_."

"No?... You see, _your_ _majesty_ , the thing is that _supposedly_ I'm the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, and _supposedly_ , I'm destined to break the curse you put on everyone here."

"Curse... The... You... _Impossible_! The child is an _infant_ , just born! Such lies, such-"

"-Only in whatever crazyland you're currently vacationing in... If the book is true, you cast the curse- a great big _fucker_ of a curse- and it worked. It took you and everyone else here, to this town; Storybrooke. Only, I _escaped_ when you cast it. My... dad... put me in an enchanted wardrobe, _apparently_ , because why _not_ , right? Why the _hell_ not?... Gold, Rumplestiltskin, whatever you want to call him made a prophesy, though. Twenty eight years of keeping everyone under your thumb in this land and the Saviour- me, supposedly- would come and mess up your little world. So the story goes. We added a few chapters to it along the way, I guess, ones not all that suitable for children, but here we are. You and me. The Queen, and the Saviour... Emma."

"You can't be... _You're_ the child? You're _Snow_ _White's_ child?"

"According to you... Well, the _other_ version of you."

"Emma..."

The Queen muses over the name once more, and the blonde notes that while shocked at the fact that someone she'd presumed to be a baby appears to be a grown- half naked- woman, the brunette seems not to find her claim anywhere near as crazy as she does herself.

 _Well, if she really_ is _the Queen, a_ magical _queen, I guess these things happen..._

_Right._

_Uhuh._

_Sure they do._

"Yes."

The younger woman affirms, and she looks away uncomfortably as dark eyes roam over her with extreme intrigue. Ordinarily, she doesn't mind when Regina studies her, but the raptness in the brunette's face is unsettling. There is a hunger there, but not the sort she's grown accustomed to.

This is darker.

Dangerous.

"My, dear... You've grown up... When I last saw you, you were but a disgusting pink worm swaddled in a blanket, but now..."

The Queen touches her tongue to her lip, and the blonde glowers at her, wanting to find some humour in what she knows she would ordinarily find a preposterous situation, but too uneasy to manage anything but caution. She meets the brunette's gaze, face to face with the woman who had wielded the crop with such malicious intent all those years ago.

"... Still, such a common face, common tongue for royal blood, whether deserving of the throne or not. You look to me to be just as useless as your mother. What a _waste_ of my time approaching your birth with fear. The golden imp had me believing you might be a threat- a bizarre notion, but then his often are- but _look_ at you... Stinking of nerves and clad like a whore. I see the apple didn't fall far from the tree."

"...Forgive me if I don't crumble beneath your assumption based on absolutely _nothing_."

Emma hisses, although inside she feels a sharp pang of hurt in response to Regina's harsh assessment. She recognises the way the brunette speaks, she's been the recipient of focused cruelty plenty of times. Words used by one with no real knowledge, only the intent to cut with their tongue. As a child it had been her lack of parents- " _who could blame them for not wanting you, look in the mirror!"_ \- as a young adult it had been her stint in jail and several later poor choices- " _You're just a bad seed, Swan, always will be, no wonder you're alone"_. Hearing such poison spat at her by Regina aches, though. The way the darker woman looks at her aches.

It aches badly.

"Am I shocked that you proudly propose to be as pig-headed as your parents before you? Not at all. You're all the same. You don't deserve the air you breathe."

The Queen sneers, and Emma moves her hands surreptitiously beneath her; sitting on them... Lest they give in to the strong urge she currently harbours to punch the darker woman.

"Being a bitch to me doesn't prove you're the Queen."

She advises quietly, although privately she wonders. It is, of course, entirely possible for Regina to simply be putting on an act, perhaps even having let Gold in on the plan... It's _possible_ , but not probable. Not at all. Regina has said far lesser things to her that she's struggled with after allowing them to escape her lips. Any venom has always been followed up with very obvious guilt and apology...

"Believe what you will, it doesn't matter to me. Nothing about you matters to me, not really. I find your existence to be vexing; distasteful. But that's all that you are to me, Saviour. A problem. A blemish. One I will relish getting rid of."

"... You _love_ me. You've said it many times... You love me, Regina. Do you know what we were doing just before that potion took effect? We were _fucking_. I was touching you, tasting you, _fucking_ you while you moaned at me to keep going. While you moaned my name. You _love_ me, and you know _exactly_ who I am. I _matter_ to you. I've _always_ mattered to you, because regardless of who my parents are, regardless of your past with my mother, you _love_ me..."

The blonde whispers, her fists clenched so tight the knuckles blanch beneath her weight and she challenges the darker woman to defy the truth as she stares her down.

"Lies..."

"No."

"Of _course_ they are... Such lies..."

"I-"

"-After all... Who in this world- in _any_ world- could love _you_?"

The Queen asks silkily, and she relishes victory as she catches the exact moment something in the blonde's demeanour snaps; the younger woman seeming to sag as her resolve and that irritating, seemingly _genetic_ defiance cracks beneath the weight of her words. She opens her mouth to twist the knife, but finds she suddenly struggles to move. Even moving her lips is an effort, and her eyelids grow heavy as a deep and inexplicable exhaustion washes over her like a wave.

"Who could love you?"

She repeats in a slow, thick voice, before sleep takes her, rendering the room unusually silent as the blonde holds her breath; her complexion ashen.

Finally, the effects of the potion wear off, and this time, as dark eyes flutter open, they convey nothing but tentative confusion and wariness.

"...Did it work? Did something happen?... Emma?"

The brunette frowns, regarding the younger woman sat rigidly in her chair.

"Dear?... Are you alright?"

She asks, concern evident in her tone, and the blonde looks up at her uncertainly, seeming to be unsure what to do. She appears drawn- troubled- and the Mayor urges her worriedly for an answer.

"Emma, what happened?"

The younger woman takes in a shuddering breath and finally removes her hands from beneath her ass; her fingers tingling as they regain sensation.

"You _swear_ you don't know? You swear you don't know what you just said?..."

Her voice cracks a little, and Regina shakes her head vehemently as she struggles to lean towards the blonde, but her hands remain tied.

"No, _nothing_ , I just remember falling asleep. Emma, what's _wrong_?"

She pleads, and the younger woman sighs as she runs a shaky hand through her hair, before finally pushing herself up to approach the bed.

"I spoke to the Queen."

She replies eventually- numbly- and Regina frowns, before understanding slowly sinks in and she lets out a sigh.

"Oh, Emma..."

She laments softly, watching as the blonde pulls herself up onto the bed and leans over her to untie her restraints. The younger woman does so silently, avoiding her gaze.

"What did she say to you?"

The brunette asks quietly, and when the blonde doesn't answer, she reaches up and pulls her down on top of her, studying sharp features critically.

"...Do you believe now?"

She broaches tentatively, but the younger woman maintains her silence, looking swiftly away with her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

Using her thumb to ease it carefully free, Regina keeps her hand cupped to the blonde's face and repeats gently

"Emma, what did she say?"


	56. Chapter 56

" _Emma, what did she say?"_

Regina waits for the younger woman to answer, but still she receives only silence. She keeps the blonde's cheek cupped in her palm, but green eyes avoid her gaze; looking past her at the wall.

"Emma..."

The brunette urges, beginning to get slightly nervous as she can almost _see_ thick, impenetrable walls being built up brick by brick, and she hurries to be let over them before that climb becomes too high.

"Dear?"

She pushes the younger woman gently off of her; Emma complying immediently as though burnt, but when the Mayor attempts to push her down onto the bed, the younger woman moves stiffly. Moving to straddle slim hips swiftly, Regina unhooks her bra and removes the irritating fabric, before leaning down and nipping at soft lips urgently, trying to coax a response.

"Emma, whatever she said to you, you shouldn't listen to her... Don't listen to her. It was a lie."

She soothes gently, her fingers running slowly through the soft curls at the younger woman's temple.

"You claim you don't _know_ what she said."

Emma points out quietly, and Regina shakes her head, sitting back so that she looks down into pale features worriedly; delectably exposed, but the younger woman seems to pay this no mind. She seems not to be seeing her at all.

"I _don't_ know what she said, but I know her. I _was_ her. I know that anything she said to you will have been twisted to be cruel, because that's what she _does_. Please, Emma... Please don't push me away."

"I'm not."

The blonde replies woodenly, and dark eyes study her intently as the Mayor calls her out

"Not physically, no, but that's not what I meant. You're pulling away from me, I can feel it, and it hurts."

"Sorry."

Emma replies, although she doesn't exactly sound it, and the brunette hangs her head before adopting a different approach. She does so carefully, aware she skates on thin ice, but the tension between them needs an outlet, and if the blonde isn't prepared to let her in, then she's going to have to pull her out by broaching less comfortable subjects.

"Emma... At least tell me if it was _worth_ it. Did talking to the Queen convince you- even a _little_ \- that everything I've been telling you is true?"

Silence.

"Because, there's really only two options here, dear. Either you believe you spoke to the Queen... Or, you believe that I fabricated this whole thing, and whatever was said to you was said by me."

Silence.

"You said before that it wasn't a case of _trusting_ me, but believing in fairytales and prophecies... So. Do you believe in magic? Or do you believe I would intentionally, wilfully _hurt_ you? Because those are really the only two ways to look at this right now..."

"It's insane."

The younger woman croaks, her throat working as she forbids the tears she can feel prickling in her eyes to escape the barrier of her lashes.

"It is, but that wasn't one of the options."

Regina sighs quietly. Emma nods slowly as she accepts this but cant bring herself to voice her answer.

 _Because it's madness, it really is, but it's_ also _Regina, and... I just don't think she'd... I..._

"I can't believe you had all that hate inside you."

She breathes quietly, and the brunette stiffens uncomfortably but allows this observation with a small dip of her jaw.

"I had a lot to be angry about. It wasn't just one thing, and I think that's what Snow never quite understood. It wasn't just her betrayal- yes, she was a child, but it was a betrayal all the same- but it was everything that moment of deceit _cost_ me. It cost me my love, but it also cost me my a true friend and confidante, it cost me my home, it cost me the last few years of my childhood. I wasn't just angry, I was hurting, and I didn't know how to cope with that and so I turned it into fury, because if I could just cause enough pain and enough suffering by my rule, maybe my own would finally let me be... But it didn't. I had a lot of hate inside of me because the part of me that was good had been stamped out repeatedly, and it got to the point where trying to keep her alive and running the show in my head just hurt too much... Knowing what I've done, and what you've _read_ that I've done, I would be fearful that you would scoff at this explanation, but I _know_ you, Emma, and you understand at least partly where I'm coming from. When we first met, I was torn over what to do with you. I ended up choosing to help you, but I knew deep down that you would manage- _survive_ at least- if I didn't... _You_ were angry, too. We had that in common."

"...I'd just lost a child."

Emma points out quietly, but there's nothing querulous in her voice, only a deep sense of exhaustion, and the darker woman swallows as she nods.

"Yes, and I know that made everything raw- how could it not? It wasn't _just_ that, though. I can't profess to know every cause and every trigger because we've never discussed them in depth, if at all... But I know in my heart that it was more than what was visible on the surface. It wasn't just losing Henry, it wasn't just losing Neal. Those were stressors; pushes towards the edge, but they weren't what started it all off for you. You were angry before that."

"... Furious."

"I know... I'm not saying that we're the same. Clearly we aren't. We made very different decisions and took very different paths. What we _do_ have in common however, is that the paths we took were of a limited choice. For you, it was a lack of means, and for me it ended up being the opposite. Things don't work the same for a ruler as they do for a peasant, and there are some options- like simply walking away- that only became a choice when it was too late. Henry's book focuses punishingly on all the _bad_ that I did, and yes, by then things were in my control. What it _doesn't_ go into is the years I spent in a marriage I loathed, in a place that I hated, and in a position of having to do precisely what was asked of me because that was simply the custom. An Evil Queen might be able to stand up to custom, but a misinformed nobody cannot.

I was _pushed_ into hating, dear. Maybe not into evil; I appreciate I was in control of my choices of the heart, if not my day to day life. I blamed your mother because it was easiest to do so. She stood for everything that hurt; the demise of Daniel and being the daughter of my betrothed. The fact that she grew up to be happy and to find love was simply like adding kindling to an already roaring fire. I can't give you any more of an excuse- of a reason- than that."

"... It's a better reason than most..."

"It is... But, to _believe_ it, you must believe in the ways of that other world, not of this one."

"I'm trying."

The blonde replies uneasily, and Regina sighs; not knowing what else she can do now that she's played what had promised to be her best hand.

She believes Emma, though. She believes that the younger woman really _is_ trying to believe everything she's telling her, because not to would mean to believe that all of this might somehow be a cruel hoax. It would mean believing that whatever venom the Evil Queen had imparted had come from her as she is now.

"What did she say?"

She tries again.

"Something I've often wondered myself."

The blonde replies eventually, and when dark eyes bore into her intently, she sighs and looks away.

"She asked me who could love me... Only, she looked like you, and..."

Emma trails off, working hard to keep from showing any emotion, but this in itself speaks volumes, as Regina looks down into meticulously schooled features and sighs. Running her hand slowly up and down the bare flesh of the blonde's arm, she understands that it won't make much of a difference what she says right now, as the younger woman has shut her out in order to deal with her admission and the Queen's suggestion. Saying nothing, she pushes herself up and moves down the bed, stroking at pale thighs softly, before tugging the blonde's underwear gently down. Emma makes no move to aid her in doing so, but nor does she protest, and so the brunette pushes slender legs slowly apart and lowers herself down between them.

She brushes her lips against the blonde's inner thighs; caressing and kissing soft flesh gently before moving slowly towards where her touch garners her more of a reaction. Still, she works carefully, and as the younger woman's breathing becomes audible and shallow, Regina can tell without looking up that there is salt lacing that quiet panting. She makes sure to keep her attention focused on her work; knowing that if Emma realises that she's been caught with tears tracking her cheeks, she'll immediately shut off. Instead, she uses one hand to run gently over the younger woman's hip, almost soothingly.

Pale hands fist at the sheets, and the blonde swallows as she feels both lightheaded and heavy-hearted. The way Regina tastes her is so foreign to how they have played things this time around, and she is brought back painfully- beautifully- to their very first time, when the brunette had instructed her to get up on the bed- this same bed; " _make yourself comfortable"_ she'd said- and had asked of her

" _Let me make this good..."_

This time around, since returning to town, their amorous trysts have been playful, bordering on rough for the most part.

 _Because that's how I like it, and she knows that, she knows_ me _, and she understands that doing things this way is much harder for me._

Yes, but right now heavy-handedness isn't what she needs, no matter how much less difficult she might find it compared to what Regina offers her now. The darker woman shows her care- compassion- and as a choked sound of pleasure escapes her throat, she simply can't force herself to believe that it had been Regina speaking to her while tied to the bed.

_She would never... She would never say something like that to me._

She shivers as the words brand themselves across her mind; burning there brightly. For the last ten years she recalls each time anything had been promising to look up, to get good with someone, she'd ended up pushing them away, because those same words- _they would never... Never do or say anything like that to me_ \- had sent her back to that night waiting for Neal to show up and start their new, better lives together.

After all, she'd believed _he_ wouldn't do anything like that to her, either.

But now, with her memories back in tact, she believes in Regina, she truly does. This is real... Somehow, it must be.

"Regina..."

She breathes the darker woman's name as she nears the edge, her legs moving restlessly to cradle the brunette as the latter places her palms firmly on sharp hips and complies with the blonde's husky request to finish what she's started. It doesn't take long, and when the younger woman tenses and shivers with a bitten back cry, Regina rests her hand gently on the soft cotton of the younger woman's top; sitting up and looking down at her pensively.

"Emma... Look at me."

She urges, watching the rapid rise and fall of the blonde's chest as she comes reluctantly back down. Green eyes find hers for a moment- flickering up warily- before dropping down to her clavicles uncertainly. Leaning forward- laying across the blonde- she places her hand gently around the younger woman's throat; not closing her fingers too tightly, but applying just enough pressure to get Emma to tense beneath her and obey her.

"Listen to me, because this is important... I've told you before that I took you in despite the possible ramifications terrifying me. I looked after you, and I helped you. I went looking for you when you ran, and I did everything in my power to make sure that you would be okay when I was forced to let you go. I know I didn't exactly _excel_ in that department, but it was not for lack of trying. I've raised our son to know the truth, when it would have been perfectly understandable for me to bring him up keeping all of his love for myself. Ten years is a long time, Emma; a _really_ long time to miss someone and think about them constantly. There's books about it and films about it, but I'd imagine in reality, that affection and love usually fades; not cruelly, but simply because time heals... If I didn't truly love you, I wouldn't be doing this. You wouldn't be here."

"... I know."

"Good."

Regina nods seriously, before offering the blonde a smile and brushing teasingly at her lips. She closes her eyes with a small noise of approval when the younger woman deepens her kiss pointedly. Finally, she moves over onto her side, studying Emma wearily as the younger woman casts her gaze up towards the ceiling.

"What now, dear?"

The brunette asks quietly, and the blonde allows a cheeky, suggestive grin but makes no move. Eventually, she turns onto her side, facing the Mayor and regarding her thoughtfully.

"...Perhaps it's time for me to show _you_ something."


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the wait. I have a deadline for my own writing (non fanfic) for the 23rd Oct, so have been pretty quiet on here recently. That should change soon, I hope. With Emma's dream in this chapter, it's an amalgamation of several of Regina's dream scenes in Enemies, as there wasn't one particular one that worked on it's own. Hopefully it reads well :) Thanks for sticking with this, and reviews would be really appreciated!

_"... Perhaps it's time for me to show you something."_

Emma muses, and the Mayor raises a brow in question.

"What would you like to show me, dear?"

"It's in the bug."

"... It's late, and Henry will be asleep. It will have to wait."

Regina sighs regretfully, concerned that in giving the blonde a little time, she will step back once again. Emma seems to understand the reason for the hesitation in her tone and assures her quietly

"That's okay. Come meet me tomorrow after you're done in the morning and it will still be there."

"Alright then, I will."

The brunette agrees, rather intrigued about what it could be. She studies the younger woman thoughtfully as the latter remains on her back looking up at the ceiling, and she asks her gently

"Are you going to stay? It's getting on for past midnight, and I don't really want you walking home at this hour, especially not in the rain."

"Are you my mother?"

Emma grumbles, before biting her lip. It's simple reflex, something she has said most of her adult life in response to the foreign notion of someone looking out for her best interests. This in itself if not entirely horrible- not at all, if she's to be honest with herself- but the concerns of others are often worded in a manner that suggest they might know more than she does about keeping herself in one piece, and she has always bristled in response at their lack of understanding of the truth.

_I have always managed just fine without you. Without anyone._

... It's strange to be lying here with Regina when that assertion isn't so accurate. She is much better off, and in far better shape than she might have been otherwise, all thanks to Regina.

"I'm not. I _am_ her stepmother, though."

The brunette remarks.

"... Well, let's not discuss _that_ in too much depth."

Emma mutters with a frown, and Regina nods as she vehemently agrees.

"All the same, I still don't want you walking home in the rain."

The darker woman insists firmly, and the blonde sighs as she's inclined to agree.

"Ok, I'll get my stuff."

"Your stuff?"

"Yeah. I'll take it through to the spare room."

"... Why?"

"Well... I mean..."

"I'll be up before either Henry or yourself, and will wake you up before looking in on him... And even if I _weren't_ to do so, I doubt he'd be surprised. He might not understand everything between us- which I would argue isn't a bad thing- but he understands how I feel towards you. We've never discussed the more adult factions of my affection, but he's not stupid. He knows that couples will share a bed if they're close to one another, and he knows that you and I are _very_ close... Unless your hesitation wasn't down to what Henry might think?"

"It's... I don't know. It's a mess in my head. I don't do this part usually, even if they stay or I stay, we don't _talk_ about it. I'm not good at this part."

"Well, if you'd not suggested disappearing off into the spare room like some awkward house guest, we would be asleep by now."

Regina yawns, and Emma rolls her eyes as she pulls the covers pointedly up over her shoulders and turns to glower at the darker woman.

"You can be really infuriating, did you know that?"

She hisses, and the brunette smirks lazily as she bites back

"That's a little rich coming from you, dear."

"Whatever. Turn out the light."

Emma sighs, and dark brows furrow as the Mayor points out haughtily

"Why should I, _you're_ closest to the switch."

"Yeah, but _you're_ naked... And you know your way around the room better."

"... Infallible logic."

Regina mutters, but she looks rather smug as she pushes herself out of bed and stalks over to the light switch with a coy glance over her shoulder.

Emma grins at her, before they are each lost in the darkness.

* * *

_Blinking slowly to get accustomed to her surroundings, Emma frowns. Somewhere close, a baby cries and she clenches her jaw as the noise ignites an old mixture of rage and disquiet. Moving, she winces; her limbs stiff and slow to respond, and she looks down at herself curiously as she realises that she sits curled up in a chair rather than sprawled out on the mattress in the corner._

Wait, why is that there? Why am I here?

_Alarm sets in, and she swallows as she takes in familiar surroundings bathed in moonlight. A shocked cry escapes her lips as something squirms against her, and she looks down to find Caskett trying to climb up into her lap. Caskett as she had been; wiry and scarred, but bright eyed and with life in her yet._

_"Cassie...?"_

_The blonde whispers uncertainly, and she rubs at her eyes, trying to make sure she's seeing what she thinks she is. She pulls back her left fist with a grimace; the flesh beneath her eye tender and sore, and she frowns in confusion. Touching her cheek gently, she explores the healing bruise that seems to be there lightly before running her fingers uncertainly over the rest of her face. It feels wrong; hollow and full in the wrong places. Looking down at her hand almost accusingly, her confusion only deepens as she takes in bitten nails and strikingly skinny wrists. There's a thin line of scar tissue that runs down the side of her middle finger, and she knows that's right, only it looks fresher somehow; tinged purple in the shadows of the room, rather than the ghosted silver she knows should be there._

_"What's going on?"_

_She asks Cass, and the cat blinks up at her without offering any answer, before leaping down and settling herself on the windowsill. The window is wide open, and Emma finds this odd as it had been raining and freezing cold when she'd gone to sleep, she's sure of it._

_It's hot now, almost uncomfortably so, and she pushes herself up out the chair with a low noise of surprise as she stumbles. She doesn't feel like herself and her body moves strangely, and when she looks down, she sees she wears a similar grey top to the one she remembers donning earlier, and black underwear that reveals pale legs dappled with fading bruises. Legs that are remarkably skinny, just like her wrists, and just like the rest of her as she runs her hands nervously over her body. Coming to a belated, awful realisation, she lifts up her top slowly and runs a shaking finger down one of the visible visible lines marring her sides._

_"Fuck."_

_It comes out a croaked groan, and she supposes she could go into the bathroom- she knows where it is after all!- and affirm her suspicions, but she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to see what she's beginning to be sure is the case._

_She's changed a hell of a lot since she was eighteen and she doesn't want to face up to that version of herself, even in the mirror._

_"No."_

_She agrees quietly, and she makes her way over to the mattress in the corner and falls down onto it. She's tired, and she knows somehow that this is where she's supposed to be. Cass takes up her vacated seat on the armchair, and they simply wait; the distant whir of a hundred fans whispering into the summer night._

_Finally, she comes._

_She._

_One moment there is only moonlight and then it's blocked out by a striking silhouette as a woman stands up on the ledge. She wears heavy satin and velvet despite the heat, adorned with a crust of jewels. Her eyes and lips are dark, and her hair has been pulled back and intricately styled. Her features are delicate and might look kind if she were to school then differently, but for now they speak only of hunger; of danger._

_Emma says nothing, she just watches as the darker woman descends from the windowsill so that she stands in the room; perfectly poised. Regal._

_For she is the Queen._

_Dark eyes fall upon Caskett, before being turned onto the blonde, and Emma swallows; both mesmerised and afraid._

_And she_ should _be afraid, because in the Queen's right hand, she spies a knife._

_A stiletto blade._

_"You're different."_

_The brunette accuses, and while Emma knows she should feel confused- she has never been in this situation before, after all- she simply responds in kind, knowing that what she says is true._

_"So are you."_

_"This is better."_

_The Queen assures, and the blonde nods despite not knowing if she agrees. She just knows what comes next, and she's not at all surprised when she looks down at herself to find that she's now wearing the pretty outfit Regina had bought her when she'd first taken up her ruse as secretary._

_How else would she unbutton her shirt?_

_Going through the motions, she works slowly, revealing pale flesh. She waits for Regina to ask her what she wants, but this isn't Regina, and the Queen is either less naive, or disinterested in whether her desires are offered or taken. The brunette stalks over and lowers herself down; moving slowly so that she straddles sharp hips on the dirty mattress._

_"Emma."_

_She muses sultrily, and the blonde nods as she allows her shirt to fall open to reveal her intimately._

_"Saviour."_

_The Queen proceeds, and again, after a moment's hesitation, the younger woman nods._

_In return, the brunette leans down and kisses her, tasting of bitterness and deceit. She runs a hand between pert breasts and Emma braces herself as she waits._

_Waits for the white hot burn of the blade._

_It doesn't come. Instead, the darker woman's sly hand veers left, stroking softly; intimately. It feels good, dangerous, but good._

_Right up until it doesn't._

_Up until cruel fingers dig into her breast, and it shouldn't be possible- it never was before!- but the blonde clenches her teeth as those fingers bury beneath skin, beneath muscle, beneath bone. They close around her heart and wrench it out, holding up the beating vessel like an offering._

_"Regina..."_

_Emma whispers; terrified._

_"It is an offence for you to call me that."_

_The darker woman warns, squeezing the blonde's heart to illicit a low cry._

_"What should I call you?"_

_The younger woman asks breathlessly, her gaze fixed on the red glow between dangerous fingers._

_"You_ know _what you need to call me. You_ know _who I really am."_

_"... The Queen..."_

_Emma croaks, and bright, white teeth flash in an evil smile as the darker woman affirms this terrible theory and closes her fist._

"Ha!"

Emma jerks upright with her hand pressed to her chest, her breathing shallow and frantic as she collects herself. The room is dark and refreshingly cool after the heat of her nightmare. The bedding is soft, clean and crisp. The decor tasteful and elegant.

Beside her, the brunette sleeps; her brow furrowed slightly as though part of her has sensed the disturbance to previous peace, but her breathing remains even and deep. In the shadows, her expression is serene. It's known. She wears no makeup- no mask- and her hair feathers softly over her pillow free of the elaborate twists worn in the blonde's dream.

_Not just in the dream... Back then. That's how she wore it back then._

The thought comes before she can help it, and Emma shivers as she lies back down and pulls the covers up over her head. She keeps her hand pressed warily- protectively- to her chest, and as slumber comes for her once more, she wavers between acceptance and clinging to the last hopes of sanity.

* * *

Looking up from her book, Mary Margaret frowns. She sits in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that are a feature in all of the rooms here at the hospital, with a styrofoam cup of green tea steaming beside her, and a small vase of wildflowers taking some of the chemical bite out of the air. She's about halfway through her book, and struggling to keep her eyes open. She doesn't make a habit of coming here so late, but the night nurse had called in with the flu, and Whale had asked her if she'd mind just keeping an eye on things for the evening.

She'd said yes, of course she had, but as the clock creeps towards 2am, she's beginning to regret this decision. The night has been free of any incidences, and she's not touched the pager in her pocket to summon Whale should he be needed. She's done two sets of rounds since arriving after dinner, but for the second lot, all but one of the patients had been asleep. There are not many overnight residents anyway, and none that she fears might cause her any reason to panic until Vera comes in at six to relieve her.

She's chosen to spend her time sat in John Doe's room as she so often does. John sleeps peacefully, just as he has done ever since she can remember.

Only...

Only, she's not sure what it was that had made her look up. Her story had just been getting good and she'd been completely engrossed before something- _something_ \- had pulled her out of it.

Some strange feeling.

And when she looks at John lying in his bed, she thinks for a moment that they've gotten it all wrong. He's not John, he's James. Only that's a lie, a ruse, and he's David. Only that's not quite right either...

Charming, he's Charming.

And as she watches him with her brow furrowed, she emits a small sound of shock as his expression changes, for the first time in _years_ it changes. He seems to frown, and as he does, the monitor to his side starts emitting an alert, and she fumbles slightly as she knocks her book onto the floor and grabs the pager.


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the wait. I should really be working on some other writing right now, but I've missed fanfic a lot and wanted to cheer myself up by working on an update. I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading :) Reviews would be massively appreciated to see me through crazy work hours and own writing deadlines which both loom ominously at the moment!

Re-entering her bedroom, Regina removes the towel wrapped around her slim frame and tosses it in the hamper beside the wardrobe. She pads over to the dresser on the other side of the room and pulls out a pretty set of dark plum underwear. She steps into it slowly with her gaze trained on sooty lashes as the blonde remains sound asleep in her bed, curled up to face her. Emma looks slightly ashen, but the Mayor supposes that might just be the gloomy cast of the room as the curtains remain mostly closed. She's lived here long enough to know that the grey slice she spies between heavy pleats speaks of snow, and this notion is seconded by the curious silence that seems always to accompany a fresh fall.

Stalking over to the window, she pulls open the curtains and sees that she's correct; clean, virginal white covering her garden and the trees beyond.

"Well, it's a good thing I asked you not to walk home, Miss Swan."

She muses over her shoulder, before turning back to the bed and shaking the younger woman gently when her words alone do little to rouse her. She pulls back swiftly; enough experience over time having taught her that Emma can react rather violently upon being disturbed. Her concerns are vindicated as the blonde snatches for her wrist, but she finds only air.

"It's only me, dear."

Regina assures with a smirk, which softens slightly as the younger woman opens her eyes and studies her sleepily. She waits for Emma to compliment her on her choice of lingerie, but the blonde remains silent; appearing more thoughtful than revering.

"Are you alright?"

The darker woman asks, telling herself that she doesn't feel irritation- not even a _little_ \- over the fact that she stands semi-clad yet lacking in praise.

"...I like your hair like that."

Emma replies thoughtfully, and Regina touches a hand to her dark locks in surprise.

"Thank you."

She frowns, and whatever caution that had glittered in the blonde's eyes- _really, caution?-_ appears to dissipate as Emma lowers the covers a little and grins at her.

"Your choice of outfit isn't bad, either. Very daring."

"Sadly, this layer is just for you."

Regina smirks as she stalks over to the wardrobe. Behind her, the younger woman muses that she doesn't find this to be at all sad, and the brunette allows a smile as she stands with her back to her guest and selects a shirt and a pencil skirt. Turning back to face the blonde, she catches Emma studying her with that same, pensive expression, and she sighs.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

She asks quietly, wondering if she knows, and not liking that possibility.

The possibility that Emma remains stung by the words Gold's potion had caused her to spit out. The Queen's words.

_I only wanted to help you believe._

"How am I looking at you?"

The younger woman challenges, and Regina sighs as she buttons up sleek wool-blend and tucks in her shirt.

"Like you're trying to figure me out."

She accuses quietly, and the blonde raises a brow as she pushes back sleep-mussed hair.

"Yeah? Would that be so awful? I thought most people _liked_ it when others tried to understand them? You're interesting and complicated, why _wouldn't_ I like to try and figure parts of you out?"

"... You weren't looking at me like I was _interesting_."

"No?"

"You were looking at me as though trying to figure out whether I might bite you."

"...I already know the answer to that."

Emma smiles, pushing herself from the warmth of the covers with a shiver as she walks up to the brunette and regards her expectantly.

"I meant metaphorically."

Regina points out primly, but when the blonde leans into her and kisses her slowly, she accepts the offer of the younger woman's bottom lip and sinks her teeth in gently before pulling away.

"I know the answer to that, too."

Emma assures simply, recalling the way the Queen had crushed her heart in her dream, yet knowing that the woman stood opposite her would never lay a finger on her that wasn't requested.

"Yes?"

"Yeah."

The blonde insists, and Regina is unsure whether she is relieved or agitated as the younger woman's statement would suggest that the turmoil caused by the potion she'd ingested last night had been for nothing.

"Get dressed before I go wake up Henry."

Is all that she says, and Emma watches her pull a jacket from the wardrobe that matches her pants before looking down at herself.

"Could I shower first? Henry might be understanding of my having stayed over, but I wonder if it might not be better if Ruby presumes I was just up super early and slipped out without her knowing. I'm not so sure she'd understand if I said I'd stayed over at yours. Not _this_ time around, anyway."

"Perhaps not, I'll get you a towel... And what do you mean, 'this time around'? Are you saying Miss Lucas _knew_?!"

Regina demands incredulously, and the blonde looks away a little nervously in a manner the Mayor remembers well, before she sighs and captures her gaze once more; calm and cool.

"I needed to talk to _someone_ that wasn't you... I would ordinarily never do anything like that, but for one of the first times in my life, you were something I just couldn't handle. I'd liked people before, but they'd always liked me back, at least once I got into my teens. I'd never felt how I felt when around you, and at times that really fucked with my head. Ruby was kind to me, and I trusted her."

"You _trusted_ her? Miss _Lucas_? The girl _lives_ to gossip!"

"No. She lives _for_ gossip. I'd say the fact that you're only discovering now what Ruby knew would suggest that she kept her mouth shut."

"I still can't believe you _told_ her..."

"If I'd thought about it before now, I would have mentioned it... Look, I needed someone to confide in Regina, for the first time I really _did_."

"You had me."

"It was _about_ you!"

"Miss Lucas has no business knowing-"

"-And she doesn't. Not anymore... Don't look at this like something it wasn't. I didn't tell her so that we could sit around giggling and discussing it like schoolgirls. I told her because I was living in a strange place, completely infatuated with a strange woman, to a point where it was giving me grief. When I ran back to Boston that time, it wasn't just because of what you said, it was also because _you_ said it. You mattered to me a hell of a lot more than I was used to, and I was terrified of fucking that up. Fuck-uppery was- and maybe still _is_ \- a specialty of mine, and so I wanted someone to talk to in hopes of getting things _right_."

Emma explains, looking both irritated and embarrassed, and Regina nods slowly, a little surprised at the younger woman's openness, and as she leads her through to the bathroom and hands her a towel, she asks softly.

"Was it _Ruby's_ idea you break in to my house with stolen liquor?"

She knows she's playing with fire and touching a nerve, but she knows Emma well, and she's unsurprised when the blonde grins at her wickedly.

"I didn't break in, your door was open... But, no. That one was on me. I just told her I planned to make a move."

"Make a move..."

The brunette muses, before pushing the younger woman up against the glass door of the shower and kissing her roughly with a sly cup of her hand between slim legs.

"Like that?"

"More like this..."

Emma murmurs, fiddling open the first two buttons to the Mayor's shirt and pushing aside white cotton and the dark blend of her suit to reveal delicate clavicles. Biting down with measured force, she flicks her tongue- trapped by her teeth- over bone. The brunette plunges a hand into her hair in response, tugging at long curls first gently and then with cruel force. Finally, the blonde lets up, and Regina studies her heatedly as she touches a finger to the shallow indent left by the younger woman's teeth before pulling her shirt back into place and buttoning it up primly.

"I see... Well, Miss Swan, time is escaping us. I'll leave you to shower and get yourself dressed- help yourself to underwear, so long as you possess the decency to let me in on this fact later- and I'll go make us some breakfast. I'll wait until you're decent before waking Henry."

She smirks, and Emma rolls her eyes to try to disguise the light blush to her cheeks.

"Good idea."

She agrees, waiting for Regina to leave before starting up the shower and stripping out of her tank top and underwear.

* * *

Making her way downstairs, Emma marvels privately at the way the expensive silk she'd picked out from the Mayor's drawers moves against the rough denim of her jeans with each twist of her hips. She'd not bothered trying to find a matching bra, and hadn't been able to locate her own, so she makes a note to warn Regina that it will be lurking in her room somewhere before Johanna decides to clean in there.

"Coffee?"

The brunette greets her as she enters the kitchen, and she nods agreeably as she walks over to the kitchen window to look out at the snow dusting the grounds.

"Please. Oh, and I couldn't find my bra, so maybe take a look if _you_ can before Johanna does."

"I will. Did mine fit?"

"Dunno."

Emma shrugs, and the Mayor hands her a cup of coffee with a raised brow as her gaze flickers down to the blonde's thick sweater.

"So you're just going without?"

"If you can't tell then what's the harm?"

The blonde grins, and Regina shakes her head as she goes back to check the pancakes on the stove and assures huskily

"Oh... No harm. No harm at all."

"Well, then."

The younger woman smirks into her coffee, before glancing over at the darker woman's phone which lies charging on the counter.

"Hey, the little light keeps flashing, is that normal?"

"It means there's a message, most likely from Sydney as _you're_ already here."

Regina sighs, glancing up at the clock and deeming ten past seven in the morning a little desperate on the reporter's behalf. She decides that it can wait until they've eaten- both of the people she cares about currently under her own roof and out of trouble- but as she goes about putting a stack of plates on low heat in the oven to warm them slightly, her phone buzzes as another messages is received and Emma whistles dubiously.

"Hey, you know there's like _three_ of those? And _eleven_ missed calls?"

The blonde frowns as the incoming message has lit up the screen, and Regina glances over at her, alarmed, and holds out her hand for the phone.

"What on earth..."

She mutters irritatably, taking the cell phone from the younger woman and opening up the missed messages with a deepening crease to her brow.

"Oh shit."

She muses, and Emma shoves her hands into the pockets of her jeans nervously as the sweet smell of pancake batter fills the air.

"What is it?"

"It's the hospital. I... I need to go."

"What? _Why_?!"

"Your fath- Dav- Charming... A man known in town as John Doe-"

"-The coma guy."

"Right. John Doe, whose Storybrooke name is David Nolan, but in the book he's Prince Charming and he's _also_ your father showed signs of _life_ earlier this morning after ten years of no brain activity."

"How _much_ life?"

Emma asks uncertainly, and the brunette bites her lip as she keeps her gaze cast down at her phone for what seems like a cruelly long time before finally looking up.

"He's awake."

"Awake?!"

"Well, he _was_... What that means, I won't know until I get over there, but-"

"- _We_. 'Til _we_ get over there."

The blonde corrects, and Regina runs a harried hand through her hair as she glances back at the pancake that's beginning to burn and saves it quickly.

"Emma, we can't just leave Henry, I have no idea how long this is all going to take!"

"You can't just leave me here with the kid, that's my _dad_!"

"So you _do_ believe?"

"I... Well, I... I mean... I should probably go find _out_ at least. I-"

"-If Charming's awake, then you will. I _know_ he's your father, even if you don't quite believe that yet, I know it full well, but Henry's your _son_ , and until Johanna gets here, someone needs to be around."

"But..."

"But _what_?"

The brunette challenges, raising a brow, and the younger woman struggles to find words to express her discomfort at the Mayor's proposition.

 _Yes, he's my son. Shit, it feels so weird to think those words, but I know he is, and I'm_ glad _he is, but this is a_ lot. _This is too_ much _. Not because I don't want the responsibility, or remain unwilling to accept the title. It's the_ one _thing in this whole mess I absolutely accept as the truth that he's our son, but we've not really spent time alone together since I was made aware of that, and... I'm nervous._

Sensing that she isn't going to receive an answer, Regina sighs as she switches off the gas to the stove and places the last pancake on top of a neat stack on the counter.

"Emma, I don't know what I'm walking into at the hospital, and I would have no way to explain why I'd brought _you_ along with me. I'm wondering if- _hoping_ that- this might have something to do with Gold's potion, but if it's not... I need to be the one that hurries to the scene _, alone_ to the scene, do you understand?"

"I guess... But-"

"-There's juice in the fridge as well as syrup. The coffee machine is still on, so help yourself. I would suspect Henry might sleep a while longer unless you go in to wake him, but I will leave that up to you. I'll let you know what's going on as soon as I can, I promise, but you'll be _fine_ here."

The darker woman assures, hurrying from the room with her phone and donning her coat and boots in the hallway. Looking up to spy Emma regarding her uncertainly, she stalks back over to her and brushes her lips gently against the blonde's cheek before taking her leave.

"I trust you."

She confides, snatching her car keys from a bowl by the door and disappearing into a monochrome world of grey skies and white snow.

Emma stands in the middle of the hallway beneath the Mayor's chandelier as she listens to the latter's car start up, the scraping of ice, and finally the soft crunching of tyres. Looking up at the upstairs landing dubiously, she finally pads back into the kitchen and pours herself a fresh cup of coffee. Dividing up the pancakes onto two of the three plates she retrieves from the oven, she brings them over to the kitchen table, along with some syrup and juice. Adjusting the way she sets everything out a few times, she finally sits down with her legs cross up on the chair and knees bouncing nervously and waits.

Less then ten minutes later, footsteps creak down the upstairs landing, and she forces herself to adopt a smile that isn't too psychopathic or clenched.

Waiting.


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy new year everyone! Sorry for the wait on this and my other fics. New year, new time scheduled to get them done in the mornings before work (well, that's the plan). Hope you enjoy, and more to come soon! Reviews would be awesome!

"Mom, I..."

Henry trails off, staring at the blonde who sits in his mother's usual place with her own gaze shifty and shy.

"Emma."

He smiles pleasantly, and she forces the mechanisms of her mouth to do the same.

"Morning, kid."

"Where's my mom?"

"There was... Something going on at the hospital earlier, and she wanted to go check it out."

Emma explains, opting not to alarm the boy with mention of how many missed calls had alighted the brunette's phone.

"So it's just you and me, then?"

Henry asks, helping himself to both a seat opposite the blonde, and a generous bite of his pancake.

"I guess so."

Emma nods, and she swallows as the kid greets this information with another sunny grin.

"Did you make these?"

He asks through a mouthful of pancake, and Emma loosens up a little as she offers up her own small smirk and digs in.

"Nope. If you knew what my attempts looked like, you wouldn't have to ask."

"You don't like cooking?"

"It's okay... I don't do it a whole lot as it's just me and I work long hours. I haven't really bothered with breakfast too often for the last few years apart from at this little diner down the block from my apartment either, but given as I get a lot of my evening meals for free, I just stick to chips and dip or whatever in between."

The blonde shrugs, although the curious look Henry regards her with has her inwardly chastising herself for forgetting the boy is only ten years old and that she's speaking to him as though he were a friend or colleague.

_Colleague._ _You've only ever had a handful of friends, and the only ones that still count are here in town, mostly none the wiser._

On cue, Henry asks innocently

"How come you would get free food?"

And she offers another abrupt jerk of her shoulders as she lowers her eyes to her breakfast.

"Oh, uh, perk of the job."

"Neat!"

Henry sermonises, and the blonde nods dutifully as she licks maple syrup from her knife.

"It's _kind_ of like when you worked for my mom before though, isn't it? I bet _Ruby_ would give you 'perks', too?"

"... I guess."

Emma agrees cautiously, looking up slowly to spy the kid upending yet more maple syrup onto the remainder of his already sodden pancake. She knows instinctively that if Regina were here he wouldn't dare to do such a thing, and is unable to thwart a small grin.

"... Did she tell you about all that? Regina? About back then?"

"You mean the time you forgot until her spell broke?"

He asks, speaking as though the question is entirely ordinary. As though their current situation were the most normal thing in the world.

Emma leans back in her chair raises a brow, but nods in a bid that he continue.

"Sure. My mom talked about a you a _lot_ before you came here. Sometimes because I would ask things about you, but also just little things she'd remember. She says you and Ruby were good friends back then."

"We were. We were actually really close."

"I bet that kind of sucks now..."

Henry sighs, and the blonde raises a brow in surprise and agrees

"Yeah... Yeah, it does. A _lot_ of all this sucks."

"Oh...What else does?"

The boy asks cautiously with his fork hovering between his plate and his mouth, and Emma shakes her head and assures quietly

"Not any part concerning _you,_ kid... I'm just stuck in the middle of wanting everything your mom's been telling me to be true, and wishing you'd all realise you were crazy."

"Do _you_ think we're crazy?"

"...No."

"Then why don't you believe her?"

"Because she claims she's a character in a _fairytale_ , and that's nuts."

"She claims your _parents_ are, too."

Henry replies levelly, and he muses pensively on the way the blonde winces slightly as though trying to shield her sanity from this early morning onslaught. Undeterred, he swipes his finger through the syrup on his plate and informs her conversationally

"You know your mom's one of my teachers?"

"... I guess that makes sense. _If_ Mary Margaret is my... If she's... I know she's a teacher. I helped her with some photos back when I was here before."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah... She was good to me back then."

"Maybe she felt something? Like a _bond_ or something."

Henry proposes thoughtfully, and the blonde looks down into her cooling coffee and counters

"I think she's just a nice person."

"She _is_ nice, she's my favorite teacher... But _I_ think it was what _I_ said. Don't you believe my mom even a little?"

The boy asks glumly as Emma fails to respond, and she continues her silence while looking up at him uncomfortably as her hand moves surreptitiously to her heart.

 _The Evil Queen wanted to take it; to crush it. You saw her the night of the crop and you saw her last night tied to Regina's bed. Logic dictates it should be so simple- so obvious- that Regina might be having you on and putting on an act, only... Only I don't believe_ that _either._

Her hand stays pressed against the steady beat inside her chest as she lowers her eyes once again, and Henry sits back in his chair and studies her; coming to the conclusion that the blonde's silence is all too telling.

She _does_ believe his mom. Or at least, she has allowed herself to for snippets of time... She's just not sure if doing so makes her crazy also.

"Believing in something _weird_ doesn't make you crazy, you know?"

No answer, but he can tell from the clench of her jaw that this is something she is _indeed_ uncomfortable with, and if he'd been present for the blonde's angry outburst towards Regina about the hole left in her mental state as a result of her memory charm he might understand this a little better, but instead he feels a small pang of agitation.

"Don't you _want_ magic and everything to be real? Don't you _want_ life to be more exciting?"

She fixes him with a cool stare and he shrinks back a little, but waits boldly for an answer.

"My life has been plenty exciting, kid."

She informs him in an emotionless tone, and he throws his hands up in exasperation.

"Isn't that _good?_ Aren't you _glad_? Weren't you _happy_ -"

He trails off as Emma pushes herself back from the table and stacks his plate on top of hers before stalking towards the sink. He watches her rinse both crockery and cutlery beneath the faucet the way Regina insists on doing, before slotting everything neatly in the dishwasher without needing to ask where it is. Once done, she straightens back up but doesn't turn around to face him; she simply stands looking out at the skeletal limbs of his mother's apple tree with her arms crossed tightly in front of her.

"Emma?"

Henry prompts, much more shyly now, and shakes her head; sending long curls cascading over the soft wool of her sweater.

"Leave it now, Henry, please."

She requests quietly, and he wrings his hands nervously in his lap; unsure how to progress. He considers ignoring her wishes and insisting that he sees nothing _wrong_ with yearning to live in a world with knights, princesses and dragons, but he remains slightly in awe of the situation- of who she _is_ \- and he has no desire to anger her.

"I'm sorry if I upset you."

He murmurs instead, and she finally turns around to look at him and replies firmly

"You don't need to apologise to _me_ for anything, ok? Ever."

He swallows under the intensity of her gaze, before his mouth slowly spreads into a decidedly wicked grin and he raises his brow impishly; suggesting mischief. To his surprise, she smirks back, and he lets out a deep sigh he hadn't known he'd been holding in.

"Hey, do you want to play cards or something?"

"Sure, what's your game?"

"Snap."

"Snap? That's _it?_!"

"Yes... My mom taught me."

"Hmmm... Well, hold onto your butt, kid, you're about to get schooled."

Emma grins, leaving out the fact that she might like to do the same to Regina later to herself.

* * *

The smell of ammonia and disinfectant.

The blue-white glare of halogen bulbs incased in strips of plastic.

Squeaky linoleum floors and white doors adorned with neat, silver numbers.

"What is it, what's going on?"

Regina demands as she hurries into David's room to find Whale, Mary Margaret and Mother Superior crowded around his bed. Her eyes roam over still features as Charming lies very much asleep and her brow furrows in confusion.

"He's exactly as he _always_ is."

She states as she frowns up at the doctor, beside whom Mary Margaret shakes her head and interrupts in a hushed tone

"Right _now_ he is, but last _night_..."


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Progress? I hope? We will see! Hope you enjoy, and please review :)

"Last night? What _about_ last night?"

The brunette frowns, and Mary Margaret takes in a deep breath as she readies to tell her tale, while Whale exchanges a dubious glance with Mother Superior. Interrupting before the school teacher can answer the Mayor's question, he explains hastily

" _We_ saw none of this, Madame Mayor. When I came in response to Miss Blanchard's 911 page, everything was as you see it now."

Mother Superior offers a curt nod of agreement, and Regina wishes she could play to her strengths and scoff at Mary Margaret accordingly, but she knows that there will be more to this than the younger woman's imagination getting away from her.

"Miss Blanchard, a word in the hallway, please."

She demands primly, and she beckons the school teacher to follow her out of the room.

"What happened?"

She asks, turning to face Mary Margaret with her brow furrowed. As a rule, she doesn't spend all too much time around Snow's useless Storybrooke counterpart, and she realises now as she studies the younger woman intently that one of the main reasons for her avoidance has shifted from simple dislike to a form of self-protection. There are characteristics in the school teacher's face so similar to Emma's, that for a long time after banishing the blonde, she had done everything in her power to avoid running into the girl's mother.

"Why did you call me?"

She urges with a little less venom to her tone. The idea that she's going to have to learn to make peace with Snow if she means to keep Emma around still bothers her greatly, but the level of hatred she had once felt for the woman in front of her exists mostly as a shadow; a ghost.

 _In_ me _it does._ Now _it does. But what if Emma continues to be blind to the truth. What if the darkness comes back as it did towards the end. What then?_

She pushes those thoughts away with some difficulty and waits expectantly for Mary Margaret to answer her.

"I didn't call you, Whale did. He said you'd requested to be alerted to any change in John Doe's condition immediately, no matter what it was. They don't believe me that anything happened, not even Mother Superior, but it _did_. I think Whale just wanted to cover his back by getting you involved and repeating what I told him. That he was _awake_."

The younger woman sighs, and from the way she stands, Regina can tell that she's uncomfortable. Not all that surprising, as before striving to avoid the school teacher, she'd made a habit of calling her out at any given opportunity; occasionally inventing a cause for contempt if none had been provided to her.

"What did you see happen?"

She urges softly, her eyes bright as they look into wary green.

"I was reading. Something caught my attention and, for a moment, I figured I must have been mistaken, but then I looked over at Charming and his expression was changing. He was frowning and stirring, and he mumbled something that I didn't understand... Then he just lay still again."

"... Charming?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You said you looked over at Charming..."

Regina breathes, and Mary Margaret frowns with open confusion as she asks in surprise

"Did I?"

"You did."

"... Oh... Well... I meant John."

The younger woman shakes her head, now looking thoroughly perplexed, and Regina sighs as her heart beats nervously in her chest, yet she feels as though all of the answers she's been searching for have just passed her by; their tails streaming, glittering, just out of reach as confusion clouds Mary Margaret's face.

"An odd slip of the tongue."

She remarks glumly, and she spies no nervous flicker in wide eyes. There is nothing about the school teacher's demeanour that suggests she is keeping secrets or shielding truths.

"Very."

Mary Margaret agrees apologetically, before insisting quietly

"I _did_ see him move, though. I really _did_."

"At about what time was this?"

The brunette asks, and the younger woman raises a brow as she had thought of all people, Regina would be the first to call her a liar. She'd been expecting grief when Whale had informed her that the Mayor was on her way, but the darker woman appears troubled rather than perturbed.

"I'd guess about one thirty in the morning. Maybe two."

Mary Margaret muses, and it's Regina's turn to frown as she considers this pensively.

"Are you sure? Are you sure it wasn't _earlier_ than that?"

She urges the younger woman to reevaluate, but the school teacher shakes her head as she insists

"No, it will have been around then. I got up to make coffee at about one, and checked in on Ronald who's been in with fever. I noted the time on his chart. He was sound asleep, and I went back to read in John Doe's room with my drink."

"I see."

The Mayor nods, although she is unsure that she actually does. It had been closer to eleven- perhaps going on for twelve thanks to the blonde's delectable antics- when she'd been under the influence of the potion Gold had given them, and by the time that Mary Margaret claims Charming showed signs of life, both she and Emma had been sound asleep.

_How can that be?_

She doesn't know, and she takes her leave with a morose expression; having so hoped she'd find her answers with David.

* * *

"Henry?"

Regina calls as she lets herself back into the house, and the boy replies with a cheerful yell from the kitchen

"In here!"

Removing her coat- wet with rain- and hanging it on the hooks by the front door, the brunette stalks towards the kitchen where she finds Henry and Emma sat at the table, each holding a handful of cards.

"How did it go? What was wrong?"

The boy asks as he folds a dismal hand, and Regina sighs as she goes about preparing herself a fresh cup of coffee and shakes her head.

"Nothing was wrong, Dr Whale just called me as there was something strange reported about David-"

"Charming."

Henry corrects, and the brunette turns to study him before glancing at the blonde, and nods.

"Yes. Charming..."

"What was it?!"

The boy enquires excitedly, and Regina notes that his eager glee is not shared by Emma, who appears engrossed in her cards.

"It was... Nothing, I don't think. Just a mistake."

"What?! _How_?! What-"

"- I'm not sure yet, dear."

She appeases him quietly, before looking pointedly over at Emma and tilting her jaw towards the door. Henry reads her silent request easily, and although he responds with a frown, he pushes himself from the table obediently and tells them he's going to go play upstairs.

Pouring strong coffee into two mugs, the brunette takes them both over to the table and places one in front of the cold dregs of Emma's previous cup.

"Here. How did it go?"

She asks curiously, and the blonde puts her cards down and shrugs as she pulls her feet up underneath her. Regina resists the urge to tell her off as she might do their son.

"It was okay, I taught him a couple of easy games and we had breakfast."

The younger woman muses as she sips at her coffee, and Regina nods as she analyses the silence that follows.

"...I'm unsure if you are upset with me for leaving you with Henry without much notice, or if my little excursion has you annoyed."

She states lightly, and green eyes flicker up at her wearily before Emma sighs with a shake of her head.

"Neither. I was nervous about being left with the kid, not upset or annoyed at you... And I'm sorry for that, I know it isn't exactly right that I should feel that way, but I can't help it."

"I can understand some of your reasoning, but I was sure that you would both be fine, which is why I trusted you."

"... We were..."

"So...?"

"I don't know. You're talking about the coma guy, and you and Henry are both call him Charming- my dad- and I just don't know... What were you expecting to happen? Why did they call you out?"

"I wasn't _expecting_ anything in particular, but once I saw those missed calls, I had hoped it might have had something to do with the potion Gold gave us."

"And it didn't?"

"I can't say... Charming- John Doe, if you prefer it- looked just as he always does when I stepped into his room. Whale had seen no change in him or in his vitals, although that's not to say that there were none. I wouldn't trust the man to be so competent as to check beyond what was right under his nose."

"So, then why-"

"-Mary Margaret was there. She volunteers, as you know, and she was covering for one of the night nurses. She was in Ch- John Doe's room-"

"-Just call him David. I can live with David."

"Fine. She was in David's room and she saw a change come over him. She says he frowned and shifted a little and then went quiet again."

"And that's not normal?"

"It's never happened _before_. Not in the ten years since... Not in ten years."

"Is she _sure_ she saw something?"

"Positive. As am I... "

"So why do you look so down? I thought you'd be pleased?"

"I'd only be _pleased_ if it had an effect on your belief and how you see things... Clearly, it hasn't done, and part of it didn't really make sense to me."

"How come?"

"Miss Blanchard said this all occurred at around two in the morning... If it had been anything to do with the potion, she should have seen something much earlier."

"That sounds plausible."

Emma nods, and she nibbles at her lip as she studies the brunette thoughtfully. Regina stares down into her coffee with a defeated expression, and the younger woman feels a knot of discomfort and guilt in her stomach as she hates seeing her this way. The darker woman looks confused, yet still so beautiful, with her face kind yet pensive.

_So unlike how she'd looked tied to the bed._

_So unlike how she'd looked in my dream... My..._

"Regina..."

"Yes, dear?"

"... Last night I had a pretty bad dream. I mean, it was bound to happen given the whole potion mess, but it really _got_ me, you know? I dreamt you were the Queen, only this time you weren't tied to your bed. We weren't sat upstairs in your bedroom with everything nice and normal... You came to me in my apartment back in Boston, back where we met. Everything was so wrong but it seemed so real. _Horribly_ real... I _knew_ you were the Queen. I didn't just presume so or think it in the hazy way you kind of half imagine things when you're asleep. I _knew_ it."

"Emma..."

"In the end, she... you... You took my heart. I woke up then; it was like I died and woke up."

"I'm sorry, dearest."

"That, uh... That would have been at around two in the morning."

Emma proposes uncomfortably, and the Mayor regards her intently as she places down her coffee mug.

"You're sure?"

"Well, I didn't check the time or anything, but yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"So you _did_ believe... For a moment at least."

"I... I guess so. Maybe. It was a _dream_ , though... I wasn't even really _me_ , not how I am now, I was... like, half me and half myself when I was younger. I had _my_ thoughts but _that_ body. Believing in you wasn't a conscious decision as it was all happening, it was all _there_. You kissed me and I could _taste_ you. You took my heart and it _hurt_..."

"I'm sorry."

Regina whispers, and the blonde shakes her head as she repeats sombrely

"It was a dream. _My_ dream. You shouldn't feel guilty for what I dream."

"But I _do_ , dear. I do, because that was _me_. Yes, she was summoned by your subconscious, but that was me as I _was_. That was..."

She trails off as her eyes narrow thoughtfully, and the younger woman waits curiously as silence shrouds them.

"... Regina?"

"The Queen... She was _real_ to you in your subconscious."

"Well, yeah... But, I used to have this recurring dream that I was running around the hotel from The Shining because the Joker was after me, and that seemed pretty _real_ durning those various mad chases, too."

The blonde frowns, and the brunette waves this comment away as she leans across the table to address Emma intently

"She was _real_ to you while you were asleep! If we can figure out a way to get you to sleep deep enough- if Gold can give us something or make us something... Emma, if you believe in the curse long enough for it to effect the others- your mom, your dad- then David- Charming- might wake up! If he does, then he and Snow... Emma, if Charming kisses Snow, this could be a whole different game. True Love's Kiss breaks any spell, and while it must be _you_ to destroy the curse by believing it exists, a kiss between your parents might at least mean that they are no longer part of it... I can't say for sure, I can't guess what might happen, but as a _theory_ I think it holds some traction. It's at least worth a _try_... If Snow and Charming remember who they are- who _you_ are- they might be able to help figure out how to do this. It's not the most eloquent solution, but it's _something_..."

Regina finishes earnestly, and when Emma opens her mouth to speak, the Mayor gets there first; preempting what she might be about to say.

"I know... It's crazy. You're just as right about that now as you have been all along, but if you put that aside for just a _moment_ , dear... Do you agree it's worth _considering_?"

"... I think _anything_ that will put an end to this madness is worth considering."

The younger woman sighs eventually, and the Mayor nods as she offers the blonde a wan smile.

"I'm only trying to help you."

"I know, and I trust you. If _you_ can drink some weird gunk because a tiny lunatic said it might work, then so can I."

"That's if Gold has what we need... _And_ if he agrees to help us."

Regina muses fretfully, but her concern is not matched by her companion.

"If not, it wouldn't be the _first_ time I've downed a handful of sleeping tablets."

The blonde shrugs with a barb to her tone, and Regina swallows as she pushes herself up and moves around the table to stand in front of the younger woman.

"...However we end up going about this, it won't be in a reckless manner. I _understand_ that you have been contrary about your wellbeing in the past, I saw that back in Boston. But never again, do you hear me? _Never_ again."

"I only meant it to lighten the mood."

Emma shrugs awkwardly, and Regina frowns as she tugs at pale curls lightly and scolds

"Read the _room_ , Miss Swan. Know your audience."

"Sorry."

"Apology accepted, but please heed my words. We're in this mess because we care about each other, and I'm risking a lot to help you and keep you safe. If we do this and it works, please understand what that means for _me_... Your mother and I have a dark and turbulent past, and she is not going to be pleased to see me- the real me- given how things were left. Your father neither. I have no magic here, not while the curse remains in tact... I'm making myself vulnerable for you, so at least do me the courtesy of looking after yourself."

"...I will."

"A lot could change, Emma. _Everything_ could change."

"No."

"My dear, you can't-"

"-Not _everything_. I might not be able to completely give in to the fact- if that's what it is- that you're the Evil Queen, but I've been willing to entertain the the _idea_ ; preposterous as it might be. Last night, that was really horrible. The things you said- that she said- were hurtful, and I'm not good at getting past that. I'm not good at giving people second chances... We've each given each other _several_ chances, and I'm still here, I still want to do this. I _love_ you. I _know_ everything that could potentially come between us- I know the worst parts- so it's not like if this all works, I'm going to turn round and be appalled... Will I be shocked? Maybe. To fully believe that you were behind some of the things in Henry's book, how could I not be? But, I'm not going to walk away... At least remember that much."

Emma assures quietly, and the Mayor feels her breath catch in her throat as her fears are said aloud and shot down.

"You have no idea how much I needed to hear that..."

She whispers, and the blonde sighs as she pushes herself up and embraces the Mayor firmly; hiding her face within thick chestnut, before finding flesh and nipping down lightly.

"If it's all going to change... Maybe we should tie up any loose ends that we have now. I told you I wanted to show you something in my bug, and... Well, I'd prefer to do so without input from mom and dad..."

She chuckles huskily, but the brunette detects the tension in her voice easily, and pulls aside heavy curls to kiss the younger woman softly; running her hand up between them and smirking against gently parted lips

"I see you still haven't found your bra."

"I haven't looked!"

"No matter... I'm in favour."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"Well... Come see what I want to show you, and we'll see how that all pans out for you..."

Emma murmurs quietly, peaking the brunette's curiosity.

"...I'll call Johanna to tell her to hurry up."


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: First off, sorry this cuts off where it does. I've spent most of the last few days working on my non FF writing, and there has been a lot of beer this evening and now it's midnight! I've been a bit overwhelmed with trying to finish off my own piece recently, and so wanted to get up what I had of this scene so far to keep you guys from waiting. The second half of this scene should be up in the next couple of days :) As always, thanks for reading, and please review!

"Where are we going?"

Regina asks curiously, sat in the passenger seat of the blonde's car with dark eyes trained nervously on the dashboard where the engine light blinks an ominous orange.

"It's tied up in what I want to show you."

Emma replies cryptically, having refused to answer this latter question since instructing the Mayor to get in her car.

"At this rate we'll be lucky to make it anywhere. Honestly, does _anything_ in this scrapheap work as it's supposed to?"

"Relax. The wheels are round and the brake pads are new."

"That all seems neither here nor there if the engine gives out."

"It won't."

"That warning light begs to differ."

"That warning light's been doing that on and off ever since I hit a boulder in Colorado."

"... Was that a joke?"

"Nope. A happy accident."

"I see."

"Well, the wording was. Actually it was a pretty shitty crash."

Emma sighs, and Regina looks up from the warning light to the blonde who drives with her glasses perched on her nose and feels the familiar twinge of protectiveness she has never managed to shake.

"Oh. Were you hurt?"

"What? No... No, I'd just bought a criminally expensive cup of coffee I'd stupidly decided to rest between my legs."

"Idiot."

The darker woman snaps, and when the blonde glances over at her with a raised brow, she mutters irritably

"Perhaps don't refer to spilling your drink as a 'shitty crash' next time."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, it was pretty hot coffee."

"... That does make me feel better."

Regina allows an evil smirk, and the younger woman chuckles huskily beneath her breath as she takes a right.

"We're headed for the woods?"

The brunette muses as they begin down one of the long stretches beneath a heavy canopy of evergreen.

"Not quite."

Emma shakes her head as she indicates and pulls over in a small lay-by beside a narrow path worn into the dirt. Switching off the ignition and meeting the brunette's inquisitive look with a sly grin, she steps out of the car and opens up the trunk without any explanation. Sighing- but not wholly surprised by the blonde's vexing mannerisms- Regina gets out the passenger side and stalks over to spy the younger woman pull out a slim, battered briefcase before slamming the trunk shut.

"What's in the case?"

The darker woman asks curiously as she follows Emma towards the path. It is one they have taken several times before and so she no longer needs to ask where it is they might be going. _Why_ they might be making their way through the woods into the fields beyond, she has little clue, but she trudges behind Emma with her nose wrinkled as her heels dig into the mud without pestering her further.

"What's in the box!?"

The blonde cries dramatically, and when she glances over her shoulder to receive a non-plussed glower, she sighs.

"I take it you haven't watched Seven..."

"No. What is it?"

"Never mind. I'm pretty sure you'll prefer what I'm about to show you to a severed head."

"What?!"

"I'd hope so at least."

The blonde elaborates as though the Mayor hasn't spoken, and Regina rolls her eyes as she hurries her pace to walk alongside Emma.

"You're being annoying."

She observes, and green eyes flicker right to observe her pensively as the younger woman ponders this accusation for a moment before replying cooly

" _You_ were the one that brought me back here, Madame Mayor."

"Right now, I regret it."

Regina matches the blonde's dry tone, and she shakes her head as she receives a shit-eating grin as they leave the cover of the trees and walk out into the fields below the farmhouse.

"I wish you'd told me we were coming here, dear. I would have changed my shoes."

She gripes, and Emma looks down at sleek black heels and pulls a face.

"Sorry. I didn't think... I'd offer you a piggyback but I don't think it would work in that skirt."

"... There is also no way in _hell_ I would take you up on it."

The brunette scoffs primly, and she looks away as the younger woman regards her intently; refusing to rise to the bait and allow for a discussion over which circumstances might have her changing her mind.

"Up to you."

Is all Emma says, and the Mayor nods as she allows the blonde to lead them up the hill.

"Why the farmhouse?"

She asks curiously, and she receives no answer other than the beckon of a pale hand as Emma leads them past the point where Sydney had made the ill-fated attempt to tackle her into submission what now feels like a lifetime ago.

"It's easier just to show you."

The blonde confides finally, and she comes to a stop inside the old cobbled square between the buildings where they had once shared an amiable breakfast and each other.

"Show me what?"

Regina asks, dark eyes lowered to the case held under the younger woman's arm.

"Shall we sit?"

Emma proposes, and the brunette thins her lips as she observes the glistening stone of wet cobbles drenched by the rain, when the younger woman causes her breath to catch in her throat with the onslaught of bitter sweet memories as she offers quietly

"Do you want to sit on my jacket?"

_She shuddered against me. I was so full of fear, full of trouble by then, but as we sat in the shelter of the stone walls here, she shuddered against me as I touched her so intimately under tight denim and cheap cotton._

"Well... Much as I would like you to remove _that_ eyesore... Perhaps we'd be more comfortable inside."

The brunette suggests, and she gestures towards the weathered door of the farm shack in a way that proposes Emma take the lead.

"Wait, what? We can go in?"

"It's vacant. It has been since the curse."

Regina shrugs, and the younger woman raises a brow but does as has been suggested and stalks for the door where she gets down onto her knees.

"What are you doing?"

The Mayor frowns, and the blonde looks up at her curiously as she pulls a hairpin from her jacket pocket and pries it apart with her teeth.

"Getting in."

She replies simply, and Regina closes her eyes with a sharp exhalation of air through her nose and reprimands haughtily

"Miss Swan, I have _keys_."

"Oh. Why?"

Emma asks as she pushes herself back up and dusts off her jeans.

"I have a master key to anywhere in town."

"Oh, right, I sometimes forget there's more to being a Mayor than the fact I get to call you that."

"True... But this is more of an Evil Queen keeping close control of her cursed subjects kind of thing."

Regina replies silkily, and she exchanges a rather bemused look with the blonde before fishing a key from her pocket and letting them in.

"Well, if I didn't have asthma before, I do now."

Emma coughs, her voice sounding muffled as she covers her mouth and nose with her sleeve and kicks at an old, velvet upholstered couch covered in dust and cobwebs.

"It's been a long time."

The brunette muses, although she finds the room's offering just as disappointing as the blonde does and stalks for the narrow hallway where she pulls open a tall set of wooden doors.

"Here, these throws should be in better condition as they've been stored away. Cover the sofa with a few of them."

"Why, do your arms suddenly no longer work?"

"I don't want the dust to waft up at me."

"... And I _do_?"

"This was your idea!"

"Fine."

Emma grumbles, negating to share the fact that beneath her irritable tone hides amiable amusement as she still can't get over how much she's missed and enjoys the back and forth offered by the Mayor. Doing as she's been told- taking care to narrow green eyes haughtily as she does so- the younger woman pulls out a selection of mismatched throws and blankets and covers up the couch. That done, she takes a seat and places the mysterious case in front of her and waits for Regina to come and join her.

"What's in the case?"

The brunette asks dutifully as she sits down beside Emma, and she privately muses that if the blonde decides to spew more inane nonsense at her rather than putting her out of her misery, she might just have to slap her.

 _Not hard... Never hard... It's just too bad that she'd probably_ like _it._

Hiding a smirk, Regina motions towards beaten leather impatiently, and Emma finally obliges and pulls down the thick, brass zipper that runs its track down three of the sides.

"First of all, you're not allowed to _laugh_ , ok?"

The blonde orders with a sharp glance up at her companion, and the Mayor frowns as she tries to peek into the case's shadows with ever more intrigue.

"... Okay..."

"I mean it... I was going to try and sell some of these a couple of years ago, but that was a bit of a stretch and I knew it, even back then."

Emma sighs, and she finally puts the darker woman out of her misery as she pulls a couple of books out of the case.

_No. Not books. Just paper. Stapled together. Homemade._

The brunette raises a brow, and accepts the curious collection of booklets Emma holds out to her.

"What's Shadowland?"

She asks, running her finger over the strange word flourished across the front page.

"Well... _Now,_ I think it might be Storybrooke..."

The younger woman replies, and when dark eyes flicker up to fix her with a perplexed look of incomprehension, Emma sighs and pushes gently

"Do you recognise the building?"

"I'm not sure..."

Regina shakes her head, although when she studies the silhouette of the shack illuminated by a storm that makes up the rest of the front page, it feels extremely familiar.

"I think-" Emma broaches hesitantly- "That's where we are now. It looks similar, wouldn't you say?"

"... I suppose it does."

The Mayor agrees, seeing quite a bit of resemblance in the blonde's illustration now that she thinks about it, and she looks back up with a troubled expression.

"I don't understand... How... When did you do this?"

"...About six or seven months after Cass died."

"But... How?"

"I mean... I thought I'd just made it up. I started doing some silly pictures and decided to try and make a book out of them. Before... Before the memory thing messed with me like it did, I'd always liked comic books and graphic novels. I decided to try my hand at it, and suddenly I had all these ideas seemingly coming out of nowhere, and I ended up doing a couple of books over the course of a year or so... Like with a _lot_ of things I did back then, I just kind of lost interest in the end. I hadn't really thought about these for years. They went in the bug, because _everything_ went in the bug, but I never gave them a second thought until the other night."

"...This shouldn't be possible."

Regina shakes her head, turning the page and biting her lip as she's confronted with a crosshatched ink illustration of a sign. A town sign. And, yes, it reads Shadowland, but in every other respect it is identical to the one on Storybrooke's border.

"I thought when you came to find me in Boston that there was something familiar about you. Maybe that was the curse or whatever you want to call it, or maybe it's just that we hit it off when I don't think that's at all usual for either of us... But I guess maybe it was _also_... Well. Take a look for yourself."

Emma sighs, and the brunette raises a brow as she notes a faint blush colouring pale cheeks, and she turns the page uneasily.

"Why, what's... Oh."


	62. Chapter 62

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Part 2! Enjoy :)

_"Oh..."_

Regina breathes, and she is struck by a medley of emotions as she studies the figure that takes up most of the page. She recognises the blonde's style instantly, yet there is a vast difference between the picture Emma had drawn her all those years ago depicting herself as a curious amalgamation of Alice and the White Rabbit to the sultry female that stalks beneath scratchily inked streetlights.

"Is that... Is that...?"

But the Mayor is unable to finish what she means to say, partly because what she's looking at defies everything she knows of magic and the way of her town, and partly because she feels at a loss for breath.

"You?"

Emma prompts softly, and Regina nods, looking up from the dark illustration to the blonde who watches her with her head cocked and a thoughtful expression.

"Is it?"

She asks, and the younger woman sighs as she muses

"I think so. Wouldn't you say the resemblance is there?"

"Well..."

The brunette starts, swallowing as she feels a blush colouring her cheeks. Yes, she would say she bares a remarkably strong likeness to the woman on the page.

_Facially, anyway... And the hair is pretty spot on... The clothes though..._

"I'm not sure I've ever owned such an outfit, dear."

She offers silkily, and Emma grins as she studies generous curves incased in sleek material- either leather or PVC, the style of her drawing leaves this much up to the decision of the reader- and a pair of sinfully high heels.

"Yeah, well, I mean it's a comic... There's a lot of boob in comics."

"Quite."

The darker woman agrees as she drinks in the blonde's sly grin, somehow enhanced as she still wears her glasses; allowing Regina yet more cause to compare her girl to the way she had been back when they'd first met.

_You made such a pretty little secretary..._

Now, there's a grit and a sense of power to the blonde; very different from her own, but she imagines that most might find that aura intimidating. Of course, she knows better, and she knows how their roles have always worked best, and she shakes her head with a scolding tut of her tongue as if to reprimand the crass nature of Emma's offering.

Nevertheless, she turns the page.

"What's the general storyline?"

She asks, her eyes fixated on the next illustration which acts as a closeup to the protagonist, and now there is no question over who played the blonde's muse- subconsciously or not.

"Oh, you know, it's your basic action story filled with villains and other unsavoury characters."

"I'm the villain?"

The brunette asks, touching her finger against the inked nick of scar that intersects full lips.

"No. Of course not."

Emma shakes her head, and when dark eyes flicker up to regard her meaningfully, she shrugs and elaborates quietly

"You've _never_ been a villain to me."

"I can think of several times when that hasn't been so true."

"And _I_ can think of a whole lot _more_ times when you've been the complete opposite, so I win."

The blonde retorts smartly, and Regina rolls her eyes while struggling to hide a smile as she leafs through a couple more pages until something causes her to stop. Looking at the implement her embodiment wields as she stalks the streets of Shadowland, she bites her lip before cautiously raising her gaze at Emma.

"...I stand by what I said... It's just a comic. Don't look too deeply into that."

The younger woman urges softly, watching the way Regina looks back down at the crop held in the protagonist's hand with a visible tick to her jaw.

"I can't help it. If you only _knew_ -"

"-I _do_ know... And if I _am_ to believe everything you've told me since, I understand what happened that night... That actually gives me a fair amount of peace, Regina. I know the marks and the brutality bothered you-"

"-Of _course_ they did! Emma-"

"-That wasn't it for _me,_ though."

The blonde shakes her head as she interrupts with her hand held up in a gesture to silence the Mayor's argument. It doesn't surprise her at all when this act of bossiness garners her a small scowl, and she smirks accordingly before elaborating

"What really bothered _me_ about the incident with the crop, was that I just couldn't understand why you turned on me the way you did. It wasn't so much the result of that sudden change- hell, you know well enough I can take it, and then some- it was the complete lack of compassion you showed me. It was like it wasn't even _fun_ for you- it wasn't a turn on- it was just a practice of striking to inflict pain, nothing else. I didn't understand why you were suddenly calling me a bitch and _meaning_ it when all I'd done was try to offer you my trust."

Emma sighs, and when she can tell that the brunette struggles to answer her- Regina's expression grave as her body seems to tense- she reaches over and turns the page gently to hide the crop from view, along with the gentle reminder

"You did tell me _explicitly_ not to do it, and I disobeyed you. Wasn't the first time and it won't be the last, but that does make me culpable for _some_ of what happened."

"No."

"We can agree to disagree. It was a long time ago, and I hold no grudge. As for the illustration, I don't think there's any point getting all too hung up on it. It's not like the _rest_ is all too factual."

The younger woman chuckles with a touch of sheepishness, and when the brunette looks up at her quizzically, it's Emma's turn to blush as she mutters

"You'll see... I kind of forgot about what comes later... I'm willing to see the funny side of it if you are?"

She bargains hopefully, and dark eyes narrow as Regina skims through the pages in search of what the blonde might mean.

She finds it towards the end, and studies the page with her mouth open and a queer mixture of horror and utter shock playing across her brow.

"Is that... Oh, Miss Swan, that better _not_ be..."

The darker woman breathes dangerously, and she bends down closer to take a better look at the scene depicted on a double page spread. She- well, the blonde's _version_ of her, clad in her tight, provocative outfit with the crop slipped into her belt- stands in front of the clock tower with her hands buried deep into long, dark hair and her lips locked with those of a girl in an impossibly short tartan skirt.

" _Red?_ "

The Mayor growls as she looks up with a murderous expression, and Emma pulls a face somewhere between discomfort and bemusement as she corrects, mostly for her own peace of mind

"Ruby."

"I... How _could_ you-"

"-I thought I was making it _up_ , remember!"

The blonde interrupts swiftly, and when this does little to diminish the furious disbelief in pretty, latin eyes, Emma points out coyly

"And, hey... I mean, if _anyone_ here should be annoyed, it should be _me_."

"Oh is _that_ how you see it?"

Regina snaps, and the younger woman nods seriously, before pulling away the hand-penned comic and leaning in with one hand on the Mayor's thigh as she braces herself and studies Regina intently.

"That's how I see it, Madame Mayor... You think I _like_ seeing someone else enjoying what's mine?"

There's a huskiness to the blonde's voice which causes the darker woman to shiver, and while she tries to maintain the upper hand and continue to express her irritation at being paired with the idiotic waitress- even if just on the page- she would never have believed Emma might be so bold- so candid- as to vocally assert that she sees her as _hers_ , and the results to this admission are really quite telling as she moves restlessly in her seat.

" _You_ drew it."

She scolds breathlessly, and the blonde is halfway through grumbling that she hadn't known any better when Regina pulls her down roughly and falls back so that the younger woman lies on top of her.

"If I'm yours then _prove_ it."

She orders urgently, and Emma laughs coquettishly, brushing at full lips in a teasing fashion as she muses

"Really, even if the dust wafts your way?"

"Shut up."

The brunette reprimands, claiming soft lips parted with wry humour and nipping down to demand the younger woman take her up on her generous offer.

"Okay."

Emma agrees throatily, running an exploratory hand up the side of the Mayor's tight skirt in search of the zip. Finding what she's looking for, she draws tiny teeth slowly apart before tugging with a little more purpose to slip the crisp material down slim legs. Pulling aside expensive french lace, the blonde touches the sharp tip of her tongue to the white crescent of scar tissue left years ago by her teeth at the demand of her mistress.

"Mine."

She breathes, and the brunette squeezes her eyes shut for a moment as her hands fist at the throws that cover the sofa; having thought and uttered that same word countless times when referring to Emma, but never having thought the younger woman would actually reciprocate out loud.

"Emma, please..."

She hisses, furthering her cautious slip into submission to seal the blonde's declaration as truth, and her words are swiftly heeded as pale curls tickle her thighs lightly and soft lips press against her need.

"Here."

The younger woman murmurs; reaching beneath the darker woman's knee and pulling her leg up to rest over her shoulder to allow the brunette to draw her in as hard as she wills. Trembling fingers find their way into her hair in response; pulling and fisting in time with the choked noises escaping full lips as Regina keeps her leg hooked around the younger woman's slender form.

"Please, dear, _please_..."

The brunette pants through gritted teeth, before snarling unhappily as Emma pulls away, only to groan as the blonde kisses her feverishly- letting her taste herself on sinful lips- as she replaces the sly flicker of her tongue with fast fingers.

"Mine."

Emma repeats huskily, continuing her fucking until she swallows a harsh cry as the Mayor digs her nails in ruthlessly through the wool of her sweater to pattern her shoulder blades.

"Fuck!"

Regina sobs into honey-scented curls; keeping the blonde clutched to her tightly with her legs wrapped in a vice-like grip around rough denim.

"See... Ruby has nothing on me."

Emma teases a little breathlessly, before crying out as sharp teeth close around her clavicle in cruel reprimand.

"Miss Swan!"

The Mayor scolds furiously, pushing the younger woman up so that she can glare at her dangerously. Enjoying the view, Emma smiles down at her sweetly before giving a rough thrust of her fingers still buried inside the brunette.

" _Ah!_ "

Regina chokes, and when the blonde raises her jaw defiantly, glittering fury abates and the darker woman closes heavy lashes as she sighs contently

" _Nobody_ has anything on you."

"High praise from the Queen."

"Empty words until you accept it as truth, dear."

The brunette scolds gently, before reaching up and drawing a slow line from the younger woman's cheek to her jaw.

"So, you never answered me... Why the farmhouse?"

"Well, it finally occurred to me where the front cover reminded me of."

"I see... So this was all staging; theatre?"

"Kind of... Plus, I'd been _hoping_ this might happen, and it seemed best it happen in the courtyard- never even dreamed we'd venture inside- rather than the backseat of my car parked in the middle of town.

"...I'm not a 'backseat' sort of woman."

Regina sniffs, and Emma grins conspiringly as she murmurs against the darker woman's throat

"Yet..."


	63. Chapter 63

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hmm, this update is out of order as I owed a chapter to my SQ fic These Dark Paths next, but this scene came to mind earlier today, so I went with it! Hopefully you like it :) Reviews would be awesome :)

As they head back towards the blonde's bug, Regina touches her bottom lip pensively as she follows Emma down the dank path through the woods. She'd left the house this morning wearing lipstick, but she images that scarlet hue will be long gone by now; lost in the younger woman's kiss. Her eyes flicker to the slim folder Emma carries beneath her arm, the one that contains the comic books that should not be, and she sighs. She wonders how many other aspects of the younger woman's life will have carried the residual touch of this town, and the thought leaves her feeling an odd mixture of comfort and sorrow.

"It's going to rain, I can feel it."

Emma murmurs a couple of steps ahead of her, and Regina nods, although with the blonde stalking on ahead, the gesture is lost.

"What's your hurry?"

She asks as she steps over a gnarled root curving up out of the earth, and the younger woman shoots a glance over her shoulder and replies with an innocent expression that in no way matches the lilt to her tone

"I don't want to get wet."

Dark eyes roll, but the blonde has already turned away, and Regina shakes her head with a small smile. She's tempted to point out this could have been taken care of back in the farmhouse, but she keeps quiet as she knows that to say so will only start up the back and forth bickering she had so missed during the younger woman's absence. Instead, she merely follows Emma out from the shelter of the trees and towards the beaten yellow disaster of her car.

 _I_ would _have returned the favour, but I didn't want to ruin the moment..._

No. After her cheeky quip about the backseat, Emma had fallen silent lying comfortably on top of the brunette, lowering her jaw onto the latter's chest and listing to her heartbeat. Regina had welcomed this act of intimacy gladly; combing her fingers lazily through messy curls, while closing her eyes and enjoying the residual buzz of her recent orgasm, and the younger woman's weight pressed comfortably against her sated need. Emma had made no move to even the score, nor had she pulled away when the Mayor had chanced wrapping her arms around her, and so they'd simply stayed that way, until the dusty disuse of the place had brought about a coughing fit from the brunette and husky laughter from Emma in response. It had ruined the peace of the moment somewhat, but when they'd eventually got back to talking, Regina had remained lain out with her legs bare and underwear pulled damningly to the side, regarding the blonde companionably as they'd tried to formulate a plan. In the end, they'd gone back to their revelation in her kitchen this morning as to how their best chance at breaking through Emma's ingrained reluctance to accept the truth might be to do so via her subconscious, and so now, as they each enter the bug, they have their sights set on another visit to Gold's shop to deal with the devil.

"You're sure about this?"

Regina asks as she brushes something suspect off the dashboard with a wrinkle of her nose, and Emma sighs as she starts the ignition and cranks up the heat to emit an ominous burning aroma.

"I said I was back in the farmhouse, didn't I?"

"Well yes, but you say _lots_ of things... I shared with you that I believe the best way to go about this is to put you to sleep long enough for the Queen to make a mark, but that doesn't mean you have to _like_ the idea."

"No, I know... And I _don't_ particularly like it... But I do have to do it. This whole deal is driving me crazy, just as I'm sure it's driving _you_ crazy telling me things and showing me things that should make all the sense in the world to me, yet don't."

"I understand, dear. You weren't brought up in our world."

"Neither was Henry."

"Henry's a _child_ , and he was brought up by someone doing their best to hide the truth, before finally admitting to it. It's not the same as it is for you... But, yes, if we're being candid, there are times when your stubbornness and normality make me want to shake you roughly until you see what I see as sense."

"Hmm."

Emma frowns as she pushes her glasses up her nose. She had spent a short while searching for them back in the farmhouse, having removed them before getting down to business, and the Mayor studies the frames and the younger woman's profile thoughtfully.

"What?"

She asks curiously, and green eyes flicker over to meet brown before the blonde puts the bug in reverse and she shakes her head with a small smirk.

"No, nothing, it's just I don't think anyone's ever accused me of being too 'normal' before."

"Well, I only meant it in the specified context... In all other senses you range from just about sane to worryingly obscure."

"Oh, Regina, you flatterer, you."

"Am I wrong?"

"... I guess not."

"The answer is no. No, I am not wrong."

"Ah, but then you never _are_ , are you?"

The blonde mocks with a catty grin, and the Mayor takes the bait with a curt nod of her head and the arrogant agreement

"Never."

Quiet laughter at this, and the brunette flashes her companion a knowing smirk in response that has Emma biting her lip as there is something about the way Regina will convey a camaraderie through her deviance that has always left her with butterflies in her stomach.

_And a little lower._

Licking her lips as she starts them down the deserted road back towards town, she glances back over at the brunette who catches her in the act.

"What's with that look?"

Regina asks; pretty sure she can take a guess, as she has grown the recognise- and relish- the telling darkness that finds the blonde's eyes when she's considering sin.

"Doesn't matter."

Emma sighs, in a tone that urges for the brunette to push for an answer.

"No, go on."

The Mayor insists, the tug to the side of her mouth letting the younger woman know she's got quite a good idea what might be on her mind, and Emma sighs again- theatrically- before lamenting sorrowfully

"I was just thinking what a _shame_ it was that you're so adverse to exploring the back seat."

She slumps her shoulders moodily, and Regina rolls her eyes as she glances back at the worn upholstery at the back of the bug and thins her lips.

"Does my disinclination for that kind of behaviour honestly _surprise_ you?"

She asks haughtily, and it's Emma's turn to roll her eyes as she huffs

"No... "

"Well, then."

The Mayor shrugs, declaring an end to the conversation. In all honesty, her mind has gone off on a tangent, and not one that she's all too in favour of. Her brief inspection of the back of the younger woman's car has brought her face to face with the assorted crap Emma has grown accustomed to lugging around with her. Books, a fair number of sweaters and scarves, a pair of boots, what looks like a small chest with mismatched locks, and a couple of folders similar to the one in which she'd stashed the comics. It all looks old and messy, and Regina imagines this to be as most keepsakes of value will be back in the blonde's apartment in Boston... Now that she has one.

_This is all the stuff that never quite progressed past Life on the Road... But once upon a time, everything would have been in here. Everything that mattered._

It's the peculiar scene of a previous life, and while this in itself doesn't bother her beyond a sense of regret that things will likely have been hard and uncomfortable at times, another factor that she has never really discussed with Emma lurks beneath the surface; sneaking up and surprising her.

 _It wasn't just_ her _car, not always..._

No. She recalls asking Emma all those years ago about her ability to look after herself; recalls confirming that there had been someone else sharing the younger woman's transient existence.

_Henry's father._

Yes.

She's unsure if she ever actually _vocalised_ this conclusion- is unsure whether Emma ever put the two together for her- but she knows it's the truth all the same.

_And, if he shared the car and that lifestyle with her... It wouldn't be the first time to suggest making crude use of the backseat..._

She scolds herself for the thought as it flares her cheeks a dull crimson, and tries to push away the fractured tails of several niggling certainties it births.

_Am I then to conclude that Henry was conceived in the backseat of a... No. Stop this..._

"What?"

Emma asks her with a frown, catching the way the darker woman looks at her with her eyes narrowed and lips bloodless.

"Nothing."

The brunette shakes her head, feeling an unwelcome wave of guilt for her brief surge of outrage at what she'd instantly deemed a common and trashy answer to a question she'd never seen fit to ask.

"Nothing."

She repeats with a touch of softness to her tone, and the blonde appears to accept this response as she goes back to watching the road.

After all, she seems preoccupied with a previous matter of contention.

"...You can be so boring at times, you know?"

She mutters irritably, and Regina looks over sternly as she watches the blonde look back over her shoulder pointedly and slow the car with momentary hope that she might be taken up on her earlier suggestion.

"Hardly."

Regina replies tersely, and she looks away; directing her gaze out the passenger seat window as she crosses her arms defensively. Still, beneath any anger, jealousy, discomfort and disgust at the matter, lies an altogether darker strain of her personality, and as Emma quits crawling along in favour of once more driving at a normal speed, the Mayor narrows her eyes thoughtfully as an idea begins to form.

 _Boring, dear? Hardly. I simply have no wish to rut in the back of this time-capsule amidst complex memories and keepsakes. Don't you_ dare _allow yourself to take that to mean I can't play as others have._

_I play better._

_I play to win._

_And deep down, I'm sure you know this by now..._

_But I suppose a little reminder doesn't hurt._

"...When you get to the cut-through for the cannery, take it and turn left instead of right."

"Huh? Why? Gold's is way past that."

"I am aware of this; I know my own town. Do as I say."

Regina snaps, and Emma looks over at her quizzically- unsure what has brought on this sudden change of plan- but the Mayor keeps her attention cast on the scenery and offers no further explanation.

"As you wish."

The blonde agrees in leu of any better idea, and she does as she's been told and takes them off the main road, down a steadily narrowing track that seems to lead towards a more remote section of the stony shore that runs along the side of the town.

"Is this right?"

Emma frowns, slowing the bug to a crawl as the track gives way to rubble.

"It is."

"Where are we headed?"

"Oh, I would say just fifty feet or so further, just to be safe."

"To be safe...?"

The younger woman's brow furrows deeper; thoroughly mystified.

"Yes."

Regina agrees coolly; enjoying the blonde's mounting confusion but taking care not to let it show.

"... Here?"

Emma asks finally, bringing the car to a halt as several fat drops of rain burst across the windshield.

"Ah, bad timing... Never mind."

The brunette muses as she watches the droplets track down the glass, and when Emma asks her curiously what she means, she ignores the question and simply orders

"Get out the car."

With these words, she slips free of her safety belt and steps out onto the rubble with the sea wind dancing in her hair. She makes her way to the front of the bug and waits expectantly for Emma to follow her lead.

"Shit, that wind's got a _bite!_ "

The blonde shivers as she shoves her hands in her pockets and moves to stand beside the Mayor out on the exposed rock ridge. They've come down the land by using the track, and while they can see the water crashing down below, there is nothing else to see but the grey, loose grit and stone on which they stand, and several purple thunder heads drawing in from across the waves.

"Not _just_ the wind."

Regina remarks, and she grabs hold of the blonde's hand and yanks her close; biting down with measured force as she grazes the flesh of her throat.

"Ah! _Regina_!"

Emma laughs in surprise, before grunting as the brunette pushes her none too gently up against the bug so that her thighs crash into the hood.

"Um...?"

The blonde raises a brow uncertainly, but the darker woman shows no interest in sharing in her quizzical amusement, and orders bossily

"Hands on the hood."

"Huh?"

"Do it."

The brunette insists, and green eyes fixate on her intently for a moment, before Emma looks down at the yellow curve of the bug's hood and places her palms on the rapidly cooling steel.

"What are we-..."

The younger woman trails off, but it has little to do with the crack of thunder that sounds above them as the rain begins to fall with greater intent, and a lot to do with the Mayor's hand coming to rest firmly- suggestively- on her backside.

"... Regina?"

Emma tries again, and she receives a sharp slap to firm flesh to shut her up. Looking back over her shoulder as she stands with her hands obediently pressed to dusky yellow, the blonde regards her companion curiously; nipping her bottom lip between her teeth as the brunette moves to stand behind her- against her- and reaches around to manipulate the brass button of her jeans. Once successful in unfastening tight denim, the darker woman pushes the blonde's Levi's down with a couple of rough movements to leave them stretched out between her knees.

A moment later, her underwear follows.

Pulling back sodden curls to murmur dangerously against the damp flesh of the younger woman's cheek, Regina scolds quietly

"I would have _thought_ you'd know _better_ than to call me boring, Miss Swan... Just because I don't wish to engage in such fun in the backseat of your junk pile on wheels, doesn't mean I don't have a hand to play... You sit there pouting and sulking because I won't indulge you in cheap fantasy... Well, _next_ time, remember who you're dealing with."

She grins as she catches Emma swallow at the intensity of her words, and she reaches out and guides the blonde's hands roughly further forwards so that she stands bent over, before kicking her legs as far apart as the restrictive web of her jeans will allow.

"...Oh shit, Regina..."

The younger woman growls through gritted teeth; bowing her head as she allows the brunette to manipulate her further into her desired position.

"Hmm?"

The brunette muses silkily; finding it unlikely that Emma will have anything too negative or worrying to impart, but mildly confused by this guttural expletive. Her curiosity grows as she receives a husky chuckle in response, before the blonde confides softly beneath the veil of her hair

"You know when you asked me what I'd like and we covered the whole elevator deal? Well... I think this might top that..."

"Yes?"

Regina responds lightly, and she slips her hand down between forcibly spread legs and smirks as she finds ample evidence of the blonde's claim.

"I see."

She murmurs delicately; moving her hand back up to the firm round of the younger woman's backside and digging in her nails to elicit a shudder.

Up above, thunder booms, closer now, and she pushes back the wet slick of her hair before putting her fingers to better use.

"How come you didn't draw yourself?"

She asks curiously as her teasing becomes fucking; first slow, but soon speeding up.

"Huh?"

Emma replies with her jaw clenched as the brunette slips her free hand up beneath the cover of her sweater and shirt to play over her breasts; still free with no bra donned this morning.

"In your comics."

"I don't know... Never occurred to me I guess."

The younger woman answers dismissively; not in the least bit focussed on her misguided attempts at art right now.

"Shame... The way you look right now, dear... What a picture..."

Regina teases, feeling Emma begin to move back into her as pale hands fist against yellow steel.

"Yeah, well... Maybe I'll draw you your own personal strip one day."

"I'd like that."

The brunette nods truthfully, before tugging at the younger woman's shoulder and pulling her back up and spinning her round so that she falls back; awkwardly perched on the bug's hood with her arms thrown back behind her.

"Ow, fuck! The handle..."

Emma laughs with a wince as she's fairly sure she'll have the curved imprint of the silver catch bruised into her thigh by this evening. She is given little time to worry about this, as Regina resumes her assault; this time moving to stand inside the V of the younger woman's legs with her fingers moving rapidly and her palm adding to the glorious damage as it works over electric nerves. Finally, when the brunette leans in to nip at pleasure-parted lips dominantly, the blonde pulls her into a clumsy embrace that has them both sprawled out over the car, and she pants breathlessly into rain-drenched locks as she comes undone beneath the Mayor.

"Shit... Okay..."

Emma murmurs a little dazedly as Regina pushes herself up to study her with a satisfied smirk.

"I think that was a little _more_ than 'okay', dear, given the way you were shaking at the end there..."

"Yeah... Okay... Shit."

The blonde pants with a grin, and the Mayor pulls her back up companionably and watches as she struggles to pull up the damp denim of her jeans.

"Like I said... What a picture."

"Uhuh."

Emma agrees sarcastically as she resorts to jumping to get the tight material back up over her hips. She wrinkles her nose as it feels cold and uncomfortable against her flesh, and regards the brunette pensively as the latter stands watching her with her clothes in a similar state of disaster.

"Come on, get in."

The blonde urges, and she reaches for the lever that moves the driver's seat forward and crawls into the back of the bug.

"Emma..."

Regina frowns, not in the mood to be pushed when she's already found a way to resolve the issue- _and_ what _a way_!- but the younger woman peeks back out at her and smiles.

"As well as a hundred and one _other_ things, there's a couple of towels back here. That's all."

She tags on, and Regina pulls a face as the rain drives down without mercy and clambers in to sit beside Emma with a scowl at the inability to do so gracefully. Still, when she pulls the towel the blonde offers her over her shoulders and moves so that the younger woman can pull shut the door, she realises how cold she'd actually been getting.

"This car is a mess."

She accuses as she makes herself more comfortable, and Emma nods without a hint of offence as she curls around to face her lazily; their breath steaming up the windows in a way that causes the brunette to roll her eyes as she has failed to escape the sordid connotations she'd condemned after all.

_Not that I truly mind... Not now. Not sat like this. There's nothing cheap, nothing casual about this._

"It is... Does my disinclination to keep a tidy automobile honestly _surprise_ you?"

Emma smirks, matching the darker woman's tone and air of arrogance as she'd uttered these words earlier. Regina laughs quietly in response and replies easily

"Not in the slightest."

"Good."

"I'm not sure it's something to be _proud_ of..."

"It's not pride, it's acceptance of a fact that's unlikely to change."

"I see... Well, on that note... I believe we should go and do something about our greater situation that needs to change quite drastically."

"... I guess so."

"We'll go home first- shower and change- and then head back out."

"What will we tell Sydney?"

"That we got caught in the storm."

"Doing what?"

"What does it matter? Miss Swan, you need to remember that what I say goes around here until the curse breaks, without question... There is only _one_ person in this town that dares challenge what I tell them..."

Regina smiles, and Emma reciprocates impishly, before the expression dies on her lips.

"No. Not true... Gold. You've warned me repeatedly about him. Gold doesn't just do as you say."

"...That's a fair point, and an important one... And I go back to my previous question: Do you want to do this? Do you want to do this _now_?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

" _Hell_ no... But it's time."


	64. Chapter 64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well... That wasn't at all the chapter I planned when I sat down to write it!... That happens way too often -_- Still, I hope what did end up coming out reads well and that you guys enjoy it :) Reviews would be awesome!

As Regina had suggested, Sydney greets her explanation that she and Emma had been caught in the storm at face value as he drinks in their bedraggled appearance. He is a little surprised that the Mayor seems to spare this fate little annoyance- having previously consoled the darker woman while she'd muttered angrily in response to getting caught in a light shower on their way to a town meeting- but he knows better than to question her. Instead, he follows the women into the kitchen where he watches Regina switch on the coffee machine with her wet hair glistening under the bright light of the overheads. Behind her, Emma stands shivering, her own hair drenched dark gold and hanging long and unusually straight as droplets patter down onto her jacket.

"Is Johanna here yet?"

Regina asks as she serves up two mugs of hot coffee. Sydney turns to fetch her some cream from the fridge but frowns as the blonde gets there first; not needing to be asked- nor invited- to help herself, and handing over the carton as she leans against the counter and drinks her own coffee strong and black.

"Yes, she's upstairs helping Henry sort out his action figures."

Sydney turns back to the Mayor and answers her question, unsure- not for the first time- what to make of the fact that she seems entirely willing to let the strange woman she has brought into their lives free reign of her home without question. This in itself is entirely out of character, but as his dark eyes flicker to brash leather and tight denim, he can't help but feel as though the blonde- Emma, Miss Swan- has no place here in his Mayor's lovely home in the first place.

Something in his expression must have given his thoughts away; green eyes narrowing as Emma regards him testily, seeming to raise her jaw as though to challenge him, but he is sure he must be mistaken.

"If Johanna is here, you may go."

Regina interrupts his musing, and he looks back at her reproachfully; forever lamenting her curt dismissals.

"As you wish."

He nods, gathering up the stack of papers he'd been working on spread out over the kitchen table, and stalking into the hallway to slip on his shoes and jacket.

"If you need me again later, just call."

He advises the Mayor needlessly; knowing she would spare the act no second thought if it suited her plans, and that his encouragement means nothing to her. She offers him a brief smile in response and makes a shooing gesture with her hand before closing the door behind him.

"That dude has the _serious_ hots for you."

Emma remarks as she stands with her hip cocked and arms crossed, regarding the brunette from the threshold to the kitchen with a small smirk.

"He _is_ a little obsequious, it must be said."

Regina agrees, and the younger woman grins as she points out

"He doesn't like me."

"Perhaps not, although I wouldn't worry about it."

"I'm not worried."

"Are you _jealous_ , though?"

Regina teases lightly, and Emma shakes her head as she turns back for the kitchen with a purposeful sway of her hips.

"Nope. I have what he wants."

She replies smartly, and the brunette follows her back to their cooling coffee and nods.

"I'm not so sure Sydney's desires are as _sordid_ as yours, dear. He merely relishes his life in my pocket."

"I'm sure he's had thoughts..."

"Perhaps."

Regina frowns, not finding the notion especially savoury. That is until Emma grins at her and muses

"How could he _not_? He spends time with you... You're the kind of woman people have thoughts- _sordid_ thoughts- about."

"Is that so?"

"Uhuh."

"What about you?"

"You _know_ I have them, I've acted on them numerous times."

"No. I meant is the same true for yourself, dear? Do you find that eyes and minds wander when you enter the room?"

"Well, I certainly spent a lot of time trying to ensure that was the case in my previous position."

Emma shrugs, flashing her teeth as she remarks coyly

"Results suggested I was pretty good at it."

"I don't doubt that... But what about when your work _wasn't_ depending on it? What about when you weren't trying?"

"Then I don't really know... _You_ could answer that better than I could."

The blonde shrugs, and Regina touches the tip of her tongue to the nick in her lip as she studies the younger woman thoughtfully; trying to remember a time when she _hadn't_ found her mind wandering just a little when faced with wide eyes whispering mischief.

"...I would think the imagination might still run a little wild, dear."

"Huh... See, if you'd just _accepted_ that back in the day, things could have moved on much more smoothly."

Emma jokes as she knocks back her coffee and takes her cup to the sink. Regina frowns and purses her lips, reminding the blonde irritably

"You were _young_ , Miss Swan; _very_ young... And don't forget that I'd seen what I'd seen back in Boston. I know you don't like me mentioning it, but sometimes your idea of sly humour demands a stern reminder. I'd _seen_ how others might think sordidly of you when that man allowed himself into your apartment and plied you with alcohol- don't give me that look, it's the _truth!_ \- and after _that_ little incident, I have to say... I found myself troubled rather than titilated at some of the unsavoury scenes your comments and good looks suggested."

Regina shrugs with a slightly arrogant raising of her brow as the blonde studies her moodily. She knows that her words aren't the easy back and forth Emma had been fishing for, but there is a part of her that is still a little sore about the past. She isn't angry- she isn't really even annoyed- about any of their previous encounters, but she does suffer the memory of that hot summer afternoon when fate had brought her back to the younger woman's flat, just as she has never quite managed to look at gin the same way since Emma's idiotic ploy to seduce her had gone dangerously awry.

"I was young."

The blonde agrees quietly, and for a moment, Regina believes that she says it to excuse her past mistakes, but there is something pensive in Emma's expression, and she knows her well enough to understand that there's more to it.

"What?"

She asks curiously, and the blonde frowns as she slips her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans and looks down at herself thoughtfully. Their conversation has reminded her of her dream; specifically her unease at finding herself once more trapped in her younger self's body. It had been disconcerting, of _course_ it had been, to wear that former guise. Looking back up at the Mayor, she muses on the topic that had struck her previously; the fact that Regina has witnessed a vast change in her aesthetics from then to now.

"You told me you used to find me attractive."

Emma states uncertainly, and it's the brunette's turn to frown as she nods and agrees

"I did... What of it?"

"I don't know... Maybe it's odd of me to ask what you thought when looking at me back then."

The blonde thinks aloud, and the Mayor's brow furrows deeper as she replies- a little waspishly

"How so? You were young, but not _that_ young... The feelings were mutual."

Green eyes flicker up at her- surprised at the defensive bite to her tone- and Emma shakes her head as she assures swiftly

"Oh, I didn't mean it like _that_! I just meant... I've changed a lot."

She splays her palms out helplessly as she is stuck for a way in which to explain herself, but the ice in dark eyes thaws as the brunette smiles at her gently and takes the reigns.

"You're wondering how my thoughts on you have changed from then to now... Visually? Sexually?"

"Kind of. I mean, I know it's probably _easier_ to deal with me now that I'm older- I'd _hope_ so at least!- both because I'm more mature, and I guess just because it bridges the gap a little."

Emma's hands form uncomfortable fists as she all but mutters this last part, but to her surprise, Regina laughs rather than offers her the sour offence she'd anticipated.

"I can see what you're saying, dear."

The brunette assures, before elaborating with a wry shake of her head

"You _were_ mature, Emma, even back then. Oh, your sense of humour was juvenile at best, but _that's_ hardly changed, has it?! But you had a good understanding of the way the world worked- a _bitter_ understanding of how the world worked- as well as a keen eye for detail and an obvious streak of intelligence. If you hadn't have done, I doubt we'd be here right now."

"Yeah? You'd have stabbed me if I wasn't so keen on reading?"

Emma growls with dark humour, and the brunette shakes her head with a warning glower and sets her straight.

"No. I knew almost from the start that I wasn't going to kill you as I'd planned to... But if you'd behaved in the same fashion as some of the young adults I know- Miss _Lucas_ for example- I would never have considered your proposition to further our relationship with anything other than scorn... That said, my looks don't reflect my years alive, so that 'gap' you're talking about bridging is one that causes me some bemusement... It's not that, dear, though the two do come hand in hand."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that, yes, you look different now to how you did ten years ago, it would be odd if you _didn't._ "

"Says you..."

"Are you complaining?"

"No..."

"Well, then... Emma, I told you I found you attractive, because I _did_. Very _much_ so. All intentions and desires aside, dear, that would have been true regardless of the state of our relationship. You were pretty, and before I got to know you, it was something I even found a little _vexing_ , but I never refused to accept it as truth. You were attractive, but I was attracted _to_ you because you were sweet. You were funny. You were smart... And I will admit, while watching you flirt was a practice of comedy rather than eroticism, you had ways about you when you _weren't_ so busy putting on a show that were quite alluring."

"Yeah?"

The blonde blushes, but she grins cheekily.

"Yes. The fact that things progressed slower than you'd have liked was in no way an indication that I wasn't very taken with you a long time before we voiced our true feelings."

" _I_ voiced them. _You_ kind of did everything you could _not_ to."

Emma reminds, and Regina smiles thinly as she reiterates

"You were _young._.. And the Saviour. My fabled nemesis. Forgive me if that gave me pause, I would think it strange if it _hadn't_!"

"You've clearly never read Romeo and Juliet. That kind of thing is like an aphrodisiac for getting down and dirty."

"Actually, I _have_ read it. They die. If you'd kindly recall, I was trying to _avoid_ that."

"Seems smart."

"Quite."

"So..."

Emma pushes, regarding the brunette curiously, and Regina shrugs as she drinks in sharp features and feminine curves.

"So, I was attracted to you. To _you_. Now?... When I tracked you down to that nice, neat apartment in Boston-"

"-Yeah, you never even gave me credit for that! It _was_ neat!-"

"-The living room was... Your bedroom was another story-"

"-No one usually went _in_ my bedroom-"

"-I'm flattered..."

The brunette smirks, before taking a step forward and studying the younger woman intently.

"I wasn't sure what to expect, Miss Swan, but I can tell you that what I _got_ surpassed any guesswork. You are attractive- _still_ attractive- but perhaps more so now in a generic sense, which cheapens it when described that way. It's hard for me to say, as I loved you before I even knocked on your door, but I would guess my thinking of you as exquisitely desirable would be shared by many."

"Does that annoy or please you?"

"Both... But in answer to the question you have yet to properly ask; I like what I see. And I mean that as bluntly and as superficially as it sounds. Even if I _didn't_ know you, I am certain my mind would wander if you walked into the room. Before, I would have considered you attractive, but not necessarily considered what I planned to _do_ about it."

"Oh."

Emma grins sheepishly, blushing scarlet at the gravelly promise in the darker woman's voice, and Regina raises a brow as she observes this reaction curiously.

"Were you in any doubt?"

She asks, and the blonde shrugs as she pieces together her answer thoughtfully

"No. Not exactly. I saw the way you looked at me back in Boston; I caught you trying to catch a peek up my dress. I've seen the way you've looked at me since then- under me, straddling me, tasting me- so I wouldn't call it doubt... What we had was _intense_ though, back then. I guess I just wasn't sure what you preferred."

"... You're _you_ , Emma. You always were and always will be. Love- _true_ love- _evolves_ with time."

"Well, yeah, I know, and it's all very _sweet_ when you see an old couple holding hands and all that shit, but this isn't exactly a _normal_ situation. Call it vanity or insecurity or whatever you want, but let's not ignore the fact that there's quite a world of distance between skinny and youthful and... Me."

"You?"

Regina laughs, tickled at the way Emma frowns at this response, and she teases silkily

"What, you think I'm disappointed?"

"I think everyone has their preferences, it's just human nature."

"And you're asking me this- bringing this up- _now_? After all this time and what we've enjoyed together?"

"Look, I'm not saying you're not buying what I'm selling, that's not it at all. And it doesn't exactly _matter_ what you prefer, because it is what it is, but it's still kind of _weird_ for me. Maybe because you look like you did back then, so it's one sided. I've just found myself wondering-"

"-Well, don't."

Regina orders sternly, and when she catches a flicker of annoyance in green eyes, she muses quietly

"If you were wondering, I wish you'd asked sooner."

"Well, like I said, it was more just a background thought, not anything I lost any sleep over. _Believe_ me, I have plenty of _other_ things to keep me up at night!"

"I can well imagine... Still, that sits ill with me; that you never asked."

"Oh, come on, Regina, it's a bit of an awkward topic to just bring up!"

"No it's not."

"No? Because it's totally _norma_ l to interrupt the moment to ask whether you miss the way things were?"

"Right _now_ I do-"

"-Regina-"

"-You were less argumentative back then."

The brunette shrugs, but she does so with a sly smirk, and as she watches the blonde sigh irritably, she states huskily

"It suits you though... Incidentally, _I've_ asked you _several_ times if you like what you see."

"Yeah, but that's _you_. You can pull that shit off, and you mean it as in 'hey, I _know_ I'm hot, but be a dear and remind me anyway' not 'huh, that wasn't there before'-"

"-You're ridiculous."

Regina shakes her head, reaching out and slipping her hand beneath the thick wool of the blonde's sweater so that she can curl her finger into the waistband of her jeans and tug her closer.

"You should have asked."

She reiterates, and Emma offers her a small, weary smile and points out

"Well, now I have."

"Mmm."

"And I'm glad you like me now... I kind of figured you probably did, but... Yeah."

"You did? What gave it away?"

The brunette asks sarcastically, but before the younger woman can offer her a response, she speaks firmly

"We need to get to Gold's and both of us still look a sight... Go on upstairs, I'll be up in a moment after I check in on Henry and Johanna."

"Yeah, okay... Look, I'm sorry if that was weird to bring up or anything, I didn't-"

"-Just do as I've asked."

Regina orders dismissively, turning for the door.

* * *

"Linguine sounds good."

Regina smiles down at the old maid sat on Henry's bed amidst an array of action figures. Henry busies himself sorting them into two piles; one to be donated to the hospital for the children's ward, and one to keep. The brunette can't help but notice that the former pile is a great deal smaller than the latter.

"I have squid and shrimp in the freezer, but if you would be so kind as to pick up some fresh scallops, that would make it a treat."

She muses, and Johanna nods obediently and pushes herself up so that she may do what has been asked of her.

"Take Henry with you, he could do with some fresh air."

Regina instructs, and she meets the boy's bemused frown with a stern nod. She supposes she has her own motives for wanting the others out the house, but she stands by her statement as she has always been a firm believer in children getting their exercise outside each day, and the dreary weather looming beyond navy curtains offers no exception. On cue, Henry wrinkles his nose and informs her needlessly

"You're wet."

"I got caught in the rain."

"Why didn't you use your umbrella?"

"It's windy and we took Miss Swan's car. Irritatingly, while she appears to have everything _else_ one might need to survive the apocalypse stored in that deathtrap, she doesn't have an umbrella."

Regina sighs, negating to mention the fact that the heavy rain and thunder had offered her little annoyance when watching the blonde come undone under the downpour.

"We'll each take one."

Johanna smiles at Henry, tagging on

"And you have your new raincoat which you've yet to try out."

Regina nods in agreement, having completely forgotten about the dark blue coat bought for Henry a week before her excursion to Boston. Johanna's mention of it brings back how _ordinary_ things had been before she'd gone to find Emma, and she sighs. That feels like a lifetime ago now, and she's exhausted but glad.

"It's still hung up in the closet."

She informs her son, and he nods as he slips down from the bed and pads out into the hall.

"Here."

The brunette smiles, pulling a couple of five dollar bills from her jacket pocket and handing them over to Johanna.

"Treat yourselves to something nice at Granny's on your way back. Just make sure Henry brushes his teeth when he gets home if he's having a lot of sugar."

Her tone is bossy but her offer is sweet, and the maid raises a brow in surprise at the Mayor's uncharacteristic suggestion but says nothing. Regina picks up on this easily and shares Johanna's silence in the matter; wanting her son out the house long enough for her to put any lingering uncertainty on Emma's behalf firmly to bed.

_Oh, but what a turn of phrase..._

She is also aware that in the chaos of the last few days she hasn't been as available as she usually is, and she knows that their strange and evolving situation affects Henry as well as herself. She considers a mug of hot chocolate and a sticky fudge brownie and excellent remedy for any unease the boy might be hiding, although she is fairly certain that he wears his heart on his sleeve when it comes to the issues they currently face.

 _He's not the_ only _one I would presume to be so easily pleased..._

No, and she smirks to herself at the notion, but she has no intention of suggesting to Emma that they go ply themselves with sugar and baked goods in a bid to ensure her happiness.

She can think of more _enjoyable_ ways to go about achieving that.

* * *

"Johanna is taking Henry into town. They should be gone an hour at the very least."

Regina informs as she slips into her bedroom.

"Okay."

Emma shrugs, busy trying to dry her hair with a spare towel she's found in the linen closet next to the brunette's room. In doing so, she turns wet curls to messy tangles, and the Mayor notes that best intentions aside, the younger woman's attempts to dry herself off are doing little to improve her state of disarray.

"You're wet."

She muses, and Emma glances over at her distractedly.

"Yeah, I know."

"Your jeans and sweater are damp."

Regina elaborates, and she wonders if she will receive a sly quip in response, but the blonde simply finishes off her rough ministrations with the towel and tries to comb her fingers through knotted tresses with visible difficulty.

"Ugh."

"Here."

The brunette grabs a hairbrush from her dresser and hands it over, watching Emma pull it ruthlessly through her curls with a wince. She waits for the younger woman to complete her brutal task while taking up a perch on the bed. She catches green eyes flickering at her curiously, reflected through the glass of the mirror Emma faces, and she smiles at her sultrily.

"What?"

The younger woman asks, placing the brush back on the dresser and turning to the brunette with her hands on her hips.

"Nothing... I just don't think cold and damp is the way either of us should go and see Rump-... Gold."

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly _my_ first choice, either. I guess we can always stop off at the Diner on our way."

Emma sighs, and there darker woman's brow furrows in response.

"Why would we need to do that?"

"Because, unlike your _underwear_ , I can't exactly borrow anything of yours without it being obvious. I doubt you'll take too much offence if I suggest that we don't quite share the same dress sense."

"You're correct; I take no offence. Solace? Yes. Offence, no."

Regina grins, and green eyes roll prettily as the younger woman flashes her teeth in a wry grin.

"I know you have the people in this town more or less in your back pocket, but I don't think that would detract from any questions Gold might have if I show up dressed in Mayor shit."

"Mayor shit?"

"Mmhmm. Fancy stuff."

"... Is that right?"

"Oh, don't sweat it, I like the look and you pull it off well... I'm not so sure it would suit _me_ , though, and I'm _fairly_ certain it might raise a few questions- not to mention eyebrows- if I start walking around in borrowed clothes when those clothes belong to _you_."

"Perhaps."

Regina agrees, primping at her hair before sighing as though her point should be obvious

"There is _another_ solution that _doesn't_ involve waiting around at that grease-hole for you to find another variation of drab denim and ill-shaped wool, however."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm. Put your things over the radiator for a little while; they should soon warm through."

"I suppose they should... And that's _preferable_ to a quick change at Granny's, is it?"

Emma grins, and the brunette nods, before adding silkily

"It _also_ allows for me to contend with a matter I am surprised I allowed to go ignored previously."

"Yeah? What's that?"

The blonde asks, wondering if the Mayor refers to her admission of uncertainty down in the kitchen. She is unsure whether she wishes to discuss the matter further; feeling a little awkward now that she's voiced her concerns.

 _After all, they weren't really_ concerns _, more just thoughts... I don't need forced affirmation, nor do I_ want _it. It's just an odd thing to think about-_

"-Do as I've told you, and I'll rectify my mistake."

Regina interrupts the younger woman's thoughts, and Emma raises a brow but complies as the brunette eyes her sodden clothes pointedly. Removing her jacket, she places it in a small heap on the floor; the leather water repellant and unsuitable to be draped over the radiator in the corner of the room, but she drapes her sweater over pleasant heat dutifully.

"Turn around."

The Mayor instructs, dark eyes glittering as she takes in the way the thin cotton of the younger woman's top has been soaked through; moulding to her unforgivingly and accentuating the fact that she doesn't wear a bra.

"Pervert."

Emma grins impishly, fully aware of what demands the Mayor's attention, and full lips spread into a salacious smile as Regina neither confirms or denies this accusation.

"That shirt- _if_ we can call it that- looks in need of drying, too."

Is all she says, and the blonde strips off damp cotton without saying a word and turns to lay it out over the radiator; allowing the darker woman a pleasing study of the soft indentations of her spine.

"Happy?"

Emma asks without turning around, and the brunette laughs quietly as she crosses one slim leg over the other and leans forward intently on the bed.

"Denim will take longest to dry. I suggest you remove your jeans, dear."

She urges, and the blonde matches her sultry amusement with a low chuckle of her own as she unfastens her Levi's obediently.

"Oh, you _do_ , do you?"

"Indeed... Now let me enjoy what I previously overlooked."

Regina demands quietly; watching as the younger woman pushes down sodden denim to reveal pale thighs and the dark swatch of lace she had previously ignored in her attempt to remind the blonde to revere her with awe. She had been so busy enjoying the scene and forcing Emma up against the car that she'd not taken the time to drink in the familiar delicacy of her own lingerie.

"That's the second time you've chosen well, Miss Swan."

She muses huskily, and Emma turns to face her with an inquisitive look.

"Your underwear... Well, _my_ underwear... It would appear that _certain_ items of my wardrobe suit you after all."

Regina elaborates, and the blonde allows a sly flicker of her tongue as she plucks at scant lace self-consciously.

"Well, you provided a good selection to choose from."

She replies, and the brunette nods in agreement

"I know."

Her smooth self-certainty earns her a bemused look, and she shrugs arrogantly; challenging Emma to tell her she's wrong. When she receives no further argument, her expression softens, and she beckons the younger woman towards her with a crook of her finger.

"I can't take _all_ the credit for my current view, though... Most of that is on you, dear."

She muses, and she reaches out to pull at the blonde's wrist; guiding her to stand directly in front of her.

"I want you to know, Emma, that my missing you was only _part_ of the reason it was so hard to cope with your lack of memory when we were re-acquainted. The rest of it was rather less innocent. I am well travelled and have met a great many people. As such, I would say I am exceedingly selective in my fancies, as I have seen just how much variety the many worlds have to offer... When you opened that door back in Boston, it was the first time in a _long_ time I suffered the frustration of having to look but not touch. I _missed_ you, largely because of the relationship and the connection that we once had, and that love for you admittedly kept me from straying during your absence, although I would hasten to add that my options were limited. I have not _wanted_ to touch, and I have rarely looked beyond my own reflection... It surprised me however- it _ached_ \- how badly I wanted to reclaim what we had when faced with you once again, and that need wasn't solely down to love or anything so tender. It was down to _lust_ \- down to the physical affect being around you had on me- and while elements of that ache were derived from memory, a great deal _more_ was derived from sight. Ten years ago, I wanted to help you, I wanted to nurture you, I grew to love you. Now... I look at you, and I want to do this...

Regina finishes with a dangerous huskiness to her tone, and she hooks two fingers into black lace and pulls it downwards just enough so that she can twist her wrist and cup the blonde's sex with cool fingers. She dips her ring and middle finger slowly into the younger woman's slick heat and pushes herself up so that she stands flush with Emma; staring her down intently. The blonde reciprocates by kissing her hungrily, but she demands immediate dominance and sinks her teeth cruelly into the younger woman's bottom lip. Pulling away, she turns them around and shoves Emma roughly down onto the bed before removing scant lace completely and standing over the blonde with the black scrap dangling from her finger.

"I look at you _now_ , Miss Swan, and I want to _fuck_ you. True, there's a whole host of feelings that _accompany_ that basest urge, but the intent is as plain and simple as the admission suggests."

She pulls herself up onto the bed and kneels astride the blonde's bare hips, leaning over the younger woman and concluding softly

"I look at you _now_ , and I can't believe my luck."

She smirks, twisting black lace and transforming the delicate swatch of her underwear into a makeshift blindfold before sitting back to admire her handiwork. Running her hands simultaneously down the blonde's sides, she watches Emma shiver as pale skin breaks out in gooseflesh and smiles.

"I worried about you a _lot_ all those years ago, Emma, I hope you realise that. Not just because of what I witnessed you do and not do, or what I saw that you had and didn't have... I worried about you because of what I was faced with when _looking_ at you. _Yes_ , you were pretty, _yes_ you were attractive, but you were also far too skinny, too fragile, too close to being _broken_. I found you appealing _despite_ those things, not _because_ of them. If I told you now that I was proud at you, you'd scoff at me, I _know_ you would, but it's the truth. I look at you now and I'm no longer _worried_ about you. Not because of what I _see_ , anyway... And I'm glad. It allows so much more room for _other_ emotions... For _other_ thoughts..."

"Like what?"

Emma whispers, and Regina runs a finger lightly across the smooth curve of her clavicle down towards the ripple of her sternum, before guiding it between pert breasts and into the shallow dip of her navel. Watching the blonde part her lips gently as she swallows, the brunette leans forward and places a kiss on soft petals, before murmuring huskily in the younger woman's ear

"Wrap your hands around the bars of the headboard and keep them there until I instruct you otherwise... Be a good girl."

She catches a downwards pull to the blonde's lips as she adds on this last part and she smirks. Still, she is rewarded with obedience, and she imagines the use of the phrase she had once applied to the younger woman with greater frequency hasn't been lost on Emma, and she places her palm over her left breast encouragingly. Drinking in the way this new position accentuates lean muscle and stacked ribs, she digs in her nails until she elicits a quiet hiss, and leans down to graze pale skin with her teeth.

"Oh yes, dear, I can assure you I stand by my preference just fine."

She breathes; trailing her fingers over the gentle curve of the blonde's hips as her mouth finds ever more sensitive flesh to earn a quiet hum while Emma's fingers flex around the bars of the bed.

"Because this _is_ my preference, in case you needed it spelt out in black and white. You're healthy, you're happy, and those are both very important things to me, dear, but _also_... Just..."

Wandering fingers travel blindly down to find the crook of the younger woman's knee; pulling at her to coax the blonde into bending her leg and allowing the Mayor to dig her nails possessively into the firm flesh of her backside and offer a pointed squeeze. Emma laughs wickedly and offers the teasing pink point of her tongue, before clamping sharp teeth over her bottom lip as the brunette smacks globed flesh without reserve.

"Just _what_?"

She asks impishly as she feels the sting of the Mayor's palm turn her fair skin red, and Regina swallows as the blonde's question is dripping with false innocence and laden with sin, and slips her hand once more between them to cup against the younger woman's wetness.

"You're exquisite."

The brunette hisses, placing a soft kiss over the blonde's heart before pushing herself up. She watches Emma's brow furrow in response, but the younger woman keeps her obedient grip on the bedposts despite her obvious displeasure. Moving off of soft covers, Regina pads quietly down to the foot of the bed and closes her hand around the blonde's ankle. Tugging with unexpected violence, she laughs as Emma lets out a surprised bark and fumbles for her grip on the bars only to lose the battle as Regina yanks her down the bed.

"How disappointing."

The brunette tuts, and Emma shows her teeth in a mock snarl as her hands go to her makeshift blindfold. For a second, Regina believes that she means to remove it and she opens her mouth to scold the blonde sternly, but the younger woman simply pulls black lace fussily back into place so that it sits as the Mayor had initially intended.

"Good girl."

Regina praises silkily, receiving another frown which dissipates swiftly as she pushes pointedly at Emma's thighs in a silent bid that she spread her legs. Waiting for the blonde to comply before pulling her fussily into place, the darker woman gets down onto her knees and slides her palms up bare skin to find a comfortable grip on sharp hips. Working slowly, she applies an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of the blonde's thigh before sinking in her teeth; biting down with only minimal force but sucking hard enough to bruise. The sound when she finally pulls away is wet and loud, but the chuckle she'd ordinarily expect from Emma doesn't come; replaced instead by a quiet groan.

"Hands next to your head, palms up."

Regina orders, and the younger woman complies; displaying her palms submissively. Running an appreciative finger down over the blonde's centre in response, the Mayor dips in and curls her knuckle slowly while watching the small changes to Emma's expression. Satisfied with what she sees, she leans in to taste the blonde; teasing sensitive flesh with the flat of her tongue before creating a sharp point. Emma lets out a shuddering sigh and moves her legs restlessly; lifting the left cautiously up to hover over the brunette's shoulder but not quite daring to apply any weight unless permitted to. In response, Regina drags her nails slowly up the younger woman's thigh, before pulling at her leg to rest on her shoulder as she deepens her assault.

"Fuck."

The blonde hisses, and Regina takes this as a sign to slide her hand under the younger woman's backside and pull her closer still; momentarily giving up her need to breathe until she feels light-headed. She continues working this way with her hands moving over soft curves; pulling away now and then to kiss the blonde's inner thighs and catch her breath, but never once introducing her fingers as she strives for the ultimate act of intimacy. Her ambition is well rewarded as Emma allows an uncharacteristically vocal response to her teasing; urging her huskily to continue, as though she would ever consider doing otherwise.

"Oh shit, I can't..."

The blonde groans through gritted teeth, though what it is that she is unable to do, Regina has no clue, as she appears to be nearing the edge quite spectacularly, while keeping her palms obediently splayed towards the ceiling. Ignoring Emma's dazed remark, the brunette runs her hand up over the younger woman's stomach and dips her tongue especially deep.

" _Fuck!_ "

Emma chokes, this time with greater urgency than when she'd last uttered the word, and she jerks violently with her pleasure as her legs tremble and she finally loses control and raises one hand to her mouth; biting down on the back of it to dampen any further noise as the other moves shakily down to shield her sex. Regina taps pale fingers away bossily and offers glistening folds a sharp slap in response to the blonde's disobedience. This earns her a second jerk and an accidental soft kick in the ribs, and she chuckles quietly without any malice as she looks up to spy the younger woman striving to get herself back under control.

"...You've never looked more appealing to me than you do right now."

The Mayor muses quietly as she pushes herself up and perches back on the bed. Emma eventually releases the abused flesh of her hand from clamped teeth and opens one eye to regard her distractedly.

"Huh?"

"You're an idiot-"

Regina elaborates

"-How could you ever _doubt_ that I would want what I have now over anything else? You look the best I've seen you _every_ time I see you..."

"... That's so fucking corny, and definitely not true."

Emma pants as she closes her eyes once more, and the Mayor laughs as she traces the delicate grooves of the younger woman's ribs lazily.

"Hmm, well... I _do_ have a soft spot for how you look _just_ now..."

"Uhuh... Damp and bedraggled; everyone's best look."

The blonde growls, striving to pull a hand through her hair pointedly, and Regina smirks as she leans over and brushes parted lips with her own.

"You wear it well, dear."

She murmurs, before pushing herself up and making swift work of removing her shirt. She catches Emma watching her hopefully and shakes her head with a knowing smile.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Swan."

She scolds the blonde's expectant voyeurism amiably; stripping out of her clothes and placing them in the hamper by the door. She stalks over to the dresser and selects a new- dry- outfit, and dresses herself swiftly; fully aware that her objection has in no way deterred Emma from drinking in each and every movement she makes. Fastening up a sleek pair of smoke grey dress pants, she rolls her eyes and reaches out to poke the blonde bossily in the thigh.

"Enough of that. Your clothes should be dry; put yourself to use and get dressed. Or had you _forgotten_ we had more to do today than answer ridiculous questions?"

"I told you it didn't _matter_."

Emma reasons, her tone tinged with a touch of annoyance as she prickles at the brunette's choice of words. Regina regards her with a stern and corrects her quietly

"It mattered a great deal, dear. I just hope you no longer find yourself wondering just where you stand."

"No. You made it all fairly clear."

The younger woman grins sheepishly, and dark eyes glitter back at her affectionately as Regina hands over denim and wool dry and warm from the radiator.

"Good. Now let's embark on the next questionable endeavour."

"We're beginning to make a bit of a habit of that, huh?"

Emma muses as she pulls her jeans up with some difficulty, and Regina sighs as she heads for the door.

"It would seem so. For myself, I am striving to call it an adventure."

"Yeah, what about for me?"

"For you, dear? I would have said questionable endeavours were merely a facet of your identity."

"Rude."

"Perhaps... Yet I don't hear you _denying_ it."


End file.
